The Last Yasha
by SkyworldPress
Summary: Carocol knows a life free from war and peace. When he ventures from his home in search of the legendary blade that felled the gods Duma and Mila, he learns that when faced with a perilous decision, one must always make a choice. And with the world at stake, every choice matters. Featuring characters from Steven Universe, Fire Emblem Echoes, and Fate/Stay Night.
1. Chapter 1: Carocol

Lumina, Yasha Island

60th of Pegastym

20 knots south of the continent of Valentia, isolated from the eternally shifting vicissitudes of war and peace plaguing the mainland, lived the god-fearing people known as the Yasha. Though their survival and martial skills were peerless, the Yasha themselves would never admit it, especially to the sons and daughters of Duma and Mila.

While the denizens of the mainland chose a life of war or peace, therefore aligning themselves with Duma or Mila respectively, the Yasha concerned themselves with staying neutral. Theirs was not a life of war or peace, but something in the middle. This resulted in the birth of the first democracy.

There was no war, nor was there a prosperous peace that followed or preceded it. One action befitting a god would certainly anger the other. This early "democracy," sadly, came without the benefits of modern freedoms, but instead the caveats of bureaucracy, and disputes on the island were almost never resolved. Over time, the island would consist highly independent men and women, many of whom never married, traveled, or traded.

Their isolated huts dotted the island's sandy beaches and steamy rainforests, with very few congregations to speak of except for Lumina. It was by far the most crowded of any Yasha "village," populated by a sparse fifty people. A popular destination due to its waterfront and mainland access (by way of the Diyo Tunnel; circumnavigating the Diyo Channel that ran between the island and the mainland was a death trap), this was the place where the Yasha High Council would gather.

It was here that Carocol had been born to the village elder, Fa'aituau, on the final day of Pegastym 18 years before. Unlike the other children of the village, who spent their youth collecting seashells on the beach and swimming in the island's many lagoons, Carocol was thrust into training to become a man from the very day he could walk. His father exposed him to a life of war, training him to wield several different weapons, and a life of peace, putting him on the Yasha High Council at only ten years old. It became apparent that the young man preferred the path of war, for he was rather impatient at Council Meetings.

Of course, as the gossipers would say, who could blame the boy? At one meeting, two neighbors complained of a banana tree that had grown right between their huts, and who had the right to harvest them. Somehow, the Council took 30 minutes to debate what a banana was and wasn't. Had his father not stared him down, Carocol would have run from the meeting and thrown himself into the Diyo Channel.

Despite his distaste for High Council politics, Carocol had a great amount of respect for his father. The disappearance of his mother at a young age had instilled this in him, although he also held his father's political prowess and combat skills in high esteem. As the young Yasha grew older, however, he began to cut deeper with both his discourse and blade, growing to surpass his father in his mid-teen years.

It was clear that the island was in good, perhaps even better hands, with Carocol. The Elder's son had passed every political and martial trial the island could offer, and was the first to pull off such a feat.

However, there was one more trial the island could offer, although it was so terrible, so ludicrous, that it was considered impossible. Sure, the children of the island had been told tales of legendary Yasha who had completed this final trial...but these were merely bedtime stories. Some questioned if the trial was even real.

What was this final trial? The Yasha would travel to the mainland, where they would make the pilgrimage to the Tower of Duma and return with the legendary blade that had sealed Duma and Mila away. The thought of even attempting such a task, at least to the isolationist Yasha, was insane. Traveling to the mainland with a group of warriors was one thing...but to make a trip by oneself, let alone all the way to the north country, was the stuff of legend.

Nevertheless, the women of the capital relayed gossip that a man wearing an outfit befitting the mainland had appeared before Fa'aituau one night in the village square. A week later, Carocol's fate was finally revealed; he would face the legendary trial on his 18th birthday.

While the High Council concerned themselves with the safety of the trial, the other young men on the island could be heard arguing amongst themselves during their martial training.

"It...should've...been...me," they would say as they swung their bamboo canes at one another.

The women, on the other hand, could be seen with tears in their eyes whenever they talked about the young man, having come to appreciate Carocol's handsome appearance and his kindness. They consulted with Tifa, the island tailor who was one of few Yasha who traveled regularly to the mainland (with an envoy of soldiers, of course).

"Surely," grumbled Tifa absentmindedly as she patched a quilt from Zofian raven feathers, "the old duff doesn't want to put his only son in such danger?" The fact that even Tifa was questioning the decision only increased the sense of anxiety that had taken over the island.

Nobody considered, however, how young Carocol felt about his upcoming trial. So when some of the local boys approached him one day as he trained on the Diyo beachfront and asked him this very question, they were surprised to learn that Carocol was _excited._

This only spawned more speculation, and soon a rift developed between the young and old residents. The island's elderly population accused Carocol of being arrogant, willing to throw away the life and culture that had given him everything. The island's youth idolized his bravado, and soon many of the young men had ceased grumbling about not getting his opportunity. Given the chance, some said, they too would tackle the trial just to escape the island's restrictive lifestyle.

This debate raged for months in the High Council chamber, until Fa'aituau reminded everyone that if Carocol were to survive the journey, he would be required to return to the island and rule in his place anyway. His statements, combined with the growing sense of dread as the date of Carocol's departure grew nearer, would eventually put the arguments to bed.

When the day of departure, Carocol's 18th birthday, arrived, nearly every resident of the island gathered at the entrance of the Diyo Tunnel. The channel was raging, forecasting a long, cold Wyrmstym. Carocol was not there when most of the onlookers arrived, and pretty soon they were doing the thing they were best at once again; gossiping.

"Looks like the young man wisened up," one of the elders said with a smirk. Nearby, a teenager was far less tactful: "he chickened out!" Soon, even Fa'aituau was bouncing on his heels, looking in the direction of his hut with an unreadable stare.

When Carocol finally appeared, the crowd whooped and cheered, while the members of the High Council stood and watched thoughtfully. In many ways, Fa'aituau looked both younger and older than ever. He wore a proud smile as his son came down the hill to join him, though he could not conceal the hollow darkness in his eyes.

"Today, my son Carocol will complete the final trial of his training," he boomed, silencing the crowd. "As most of you know, this trial is only reserved for those of our kind who showcase ability and fortitude far greater than their peers. Even with these qualities, an ordinary Yasha could not hope to complete this task.

"And yet," he said loudly, for there had been a burst of angry mutterings from the other Yasha men at his words, "here is a boy...no, a man... who I have had the pleasure of training myself. Who is not only fiercely dedicated to his own betterment, but to his peers and his neighbors."

Carocol shifted uncomfortably at this. He would sooner have trained in combat for all of his youth then get involved with the island's petty social affairs.

"There truly has never been a Yasha such as Carocol, who embodies what it means to take the middle road. He has the strength and iron will of Duma. But his might is not causeless. His greatest strength is his empathy, his willingness to help all of us overcome our hardships . By taking one path, he has learned how to succeed on the other. Perhaps there is something we can all learn from this."

Now the old man looked down at his son, who stared back with tears in his eyes. Even with his face painted with the blood of the blackbird, the holy symbol of Yasha Island, Carocol retained the childlike innocence that had captivated the island for 18 years.

"You have made me proud son, and I anticipate your return."

As the assembled onlookers erupted into noise once more, Carocol simply nodded and ducked his head into the tunnel. He only turned back once, to catch a final glimpse of his father, who now wore an enigmatic expression. One of sadness deeper than Carocol could understand. Carocol took a moment to consider it, until his father indicated for him to continue.

With every corner he turned, the crowd grew quieter and quieter until finally, there was nothing but his own breathing and the rushing of water overhead.

Carocol wasn't sure how long he had been walking when the surrounding cave walls suddenly turned a bright shade of pink. It wasn't the shade of pink he associated with the island's flamingos, tender and warm, but deep and lustrous. It danced along the crystalline walls like a spritely shadow, reflecting Carocol's hunched body in its glare.

Finally, the young Yasha emerged from the tight tunnel into a great chamber. He took the opportunity to stretch his back, which had been hunched over for at least an hour by his estimation. The ceiling sprawled beyond view, and yet it was not darkness that obscured it, but a brilliant pink light that reflected off the chamber walls and growing in brightness as it rose.

Once he was limber, Carocol continued until a voice echoed all around him. Instinctively, Carocol ducked low to the floor, moving stealthily ahead and hiding behind the coarse pillars that kept the as he approached the source of the voice.

Finally, he caught a glimpse of a clearing at the end of the chamber, before a blinding flash of gold blinded him. Carocol squinted his eyes, and ducked behind one of the massive boulders flanking the space, his ear pressed against it.

"You monster…" a voice said simply. It was a motherly, warm voice, that somehow made Carocol's hair stand on end. The next voice, a colder one, came from the other side of the boulder.

"I'm the monster? You and your mongrel rocks have no place in my world. The Earth is my oyster, and I shall take great pleasure in eliminating you from it. Even if that means destroying every peon you throw at me."

There was a loud rushing sound, as if something large had been propelled forward with great velocity, followed by a scream of agony. A loud clanging sound indicated the weapon that had been launched, or perhaps the shield of the female defender, had fallen to the ground.

"You do not stand a chance against me, heathen of soil. If you wish to live, you will allow me to stick a blade in every inch of your body. Then, I will send you back to the star you came from, to show your fellow superiors what awaits them if they dare tamper with my world."

Carocol felt a sudden rush of anger. He leaned out from his shelter to catch a glimpse of the scene. He could only make out one person; a taller man covered in the most magnificent suit of armor he had ever seen. Though he only had the pleasure of seeing warriors from the mainland twice in his life, even their armor paled in comparison. Despite how close he was, the outstanding pink aura made it impossible to discern a face.

"Heh," the woman breathed, before snickering. "They're about as likely to listen to me as they are you."

"I see…" said the golden man, who lifted his chin haughtily. "Then die."

And before Carocol's eyes, an impossibly huge spear no person could ever hope to wield slowly emerged from a bright yellow portal behind the man. What happened next was so fast, it took Carocol a moment to process it. The spear launched forward with impossible force, the resulting explosion dispelling the pink aura of the chamber almost immediately. The darkness slowly returned, creeping its way over every surface and closing in on Carocol, until his eyes were forced to adjust again. After a few moments of silence, the cold voice spoke again.

"Ah, I see I have an audience."

Carocol instinctively withdrew his silver blade, the one his father had given him for a 14th birthday present. He dove into the clearing and rolled along the cave floor, feeling the small, jagged rocks pricking his skin as he went, until he was positioned in front of the man.

"Relax, boy, I have no quarrel with you," the man said. Even in the murky darkness, the man's skin seemed to glow from within, as if an undefinable energy were flowing through his veins. His crimson eyes pierced the darkness, resting on Carocol as if he were nothing more than a curious insect. Carocol ignored the man's command, gripping his blade horizontally under his chin.

"I have no quarrel with you," the man repeated. "However…you have seen too much."

And before Carocol could even parry, a splendorous silver sword far more lustrous than his plunged through his abdomen. His strength left him nigh immediately, and he crumpled to the floor in a pathetic heap. Somehow, even with every muscle in his sword arm protesting, he managed to keep hold of his blade. Perhaps his father would've praised his survivor's spirit, but the man in gold armor simply laughed.

"It's pointless to resist death, boy," he said. "That sword I have struck you down with will certainly kill you. It is imbued with the venom of a basilisk, the most powerful of serpents. Every second you live is a painful second wasted."

Carocol tried to speak, to curse the man slowly approaching him, but his breathing was failing him. He couldn't even cry out in pain as the man grabbed him by the hair and yanked his head upwards until their eyes met. He thought desperately of any way to escape the man's grasp. Perhaps to get a surprise attack in. But no...his muscles would not budge.

"Rejoice, mongrel, for I have decided that the final moments of your life will be enriching."

The man smiled menacingly and continued. "I assume you know the role of Gods in your realm? Then you at least know the tale of Duma and Mila. Consider yourself fortunate yet again, cur, for when the Lord Duma returns to this realm, nobody will be spared. Not even your friends…"

Carocol's eyes closed, and for a moment he felt as if he couldn't open them. When they did, his vision was darker than before. The man's smile had faded.

"Pitiful, you mortals are nauseatingly fleeting. So insignificant…"

And with that, the man released Carocol, his chin hitting the jagged floor with a pitiful thud. The last inches of light in his line of sight died away, but as the man in gold disappeared with one, final flash of golden fire, a single stone rose on its own accord from the floor. The resulting flash of pink illuminated Carocol's view for a split second, before the world finally and mercifully disappeared.


	2. Chapter 2: Dreams

Carocol was five years old again.

Before him on the dusty country road leading back to Lumina was an island ferret that appeared to be sleeping. An arrow jutted out of its head like a sewing needle. Fa'aituau leaned down to examine it, trying to determine who had fired the arrow simply from its design.

"Why isn't it moving?" Carocol asked, his voice soft and high. His father turned back to him and smiled weakly.

"Because it's dead."

Carocol moved a bit closer.

"So when is it going to wake up?"

His father shook his head, and continued down the road with the ferret slung over his shoulder. Carocol struggled to keep up.

"Father, when is it going to wake up?" he repeated.

"It won't. It's never going to wake up. That's what happens when you die."

To his father's surprise, the revelation of death didn't deter his son. In fact, Carocol was absorbed in the subject, and asked questions about it all the way back to the village.

"Do birds die? What about those bees that nested under the lean-to last year, did they die? I hope so, I didn't like them very much. Do things that swim die? Like fish? Or that shark that washed up on the beach last year?"

Fa'aituau was patient with Carocol, replying "yes" or "of course" to every question. His heart sank, then, when Carocol asked about Vlade, the neighbor boy who showed up at their hut to play on off-days.

"He's not going to die, is he?"

His father slowed down then, and did something he had never done with Carocol. He put his arms on his shoulders and spoke in a low, gentle voice.

"I'm sorry, but yes, Vlade will die someday."

The light left Carocol's eyes, and he looked down at his feet.

"Are you going to die?"

"Yes," said Fa'aituau for what seemed like the hundredth time.

"Then I'm going to die too..."

Fa'aituau nodded, torn between pride at Carocol's improving problem-solving skills and sadness.

Neither said anything for a time. Soon a slight breeze was carrying the scent of a roasted pig. They were almost home.

It wasn't until they reached their hut, however, that Carocol asked his final question.

"What happens to us when we die?"

Fa'aituau held his hand on the door, and looked thoughtfully at the ground. Finally, he smiled ruefully and turned back to his son.

"I wouldn't know. I'm still alive, aren't I?"

With that, he disappeared inside. Carocol found his favorite sitting spot under the lean-to, poking at the weeds erupting from the woodpile with his poker. The sun rested on the Diyo Channel to the North, observing the churning waters that isolated them from the world. He wasn't like most other five year-olds; his father had told him so.

Somehow, the thought that he would die like everyone else both comforted and alarmed him. In only ten minutes time, his life had come to feel empty and temporary. He thought of things no child should, just as a ladybug landed on his leg. _Why should it buzz, _he thought, _and fly around at all if it will go to sleep and never wake in the end? _

He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he almost didn't see the burst of light in the sky directly above him. He glanced up, unable to make out the shapes that chased away the encroaching night sky. They were of a familiar shade of color, but he had little time to consider it before the entire sky was ablaze in a . Soon, he had to shield his eyes. The ladybug buzzed by his ear and landed on his forehead, but Carocol was too frightened to swat it away.

The light burned his eyes, his skin, until it engulfed him and he could see no more...

"...up. Please wake up, human."

The voice was pleading, desperate, but Carocol couldn't respond. Pain shot through his entire bod, as if he had been thrown into a freezing vat of water. He could hear leaves rustling above him.

"I can't lose another...oh stars, please open your eyes…"

Carocol snapped into consciousness, staring into the eyes of the most beautiful woman he'd ever met. Her curly pink hair rippled gently in the light breeze, her pale skin absorbing the sun's light. Upon seeing him awaken, the woman's eyes twinkled, and she broke out into a fit of nervous laughter.

"Haha...I thought I'd lost you for a moment. You lost a lot of blood back there."

"Ba..a...?"

And he remembered what he had seen before. The golden man, the motherly voice (which belonged to the woman before him), the poisoned sword plunging through his chest... He tried to move, to sit up, but his muscles protested. The woman put a hand on his forehead.

"No, you're not at full strength yet. I'm not sure how long my healing powers will take...whoa, there!"

At the word "healing," Carocol jumped to his feet. He swayed as the blood rushed to his head, his legs threatening to give out.

"Daughter of Mila, you shouldn't have helped me," he said with as much strength as he could muster. "I am of the island of the Yasha, I cannot allow myself to be indebted to any god."

The woman stood up with her eyebrows raised, but didn't try to help him.

"Er, what? Who's Mila?"

Carocol continued to stagger backwards nervously. He could feel the stiffness leaving his fingers, and found the strength to ball them into fists.

"Please don't try to deceive me, cleric. You should not have helped me. I would...sooner have died than be indebted to Mila."

But to his surprise, the woman began to laugh again.

"Wait, you actually think I'm a human? I'm not, I'm…" She paused and put a finger to her chin. "Oh geez, how to explain?"

Carocol's legs were slowly feeling more and more limber, and he could back away at a faster pace.

"Wait, please don't leave," said the woman as she noticed this. "I'm not a...cleric, or whatever you humans call healers. I'm...well, I'm a gem."

Gem? That couldn't be...gems were those colorful rocks the women of the island would flaunt in their clothing or headbands. He had never met a "gem" that could walk or talk, let alone save someone from dying. Curiosity alone had stopped Carocol from moving.

"I'm not from Earth, I'm from a planet very far away from here."

"Planet?" Carocol said slowly. The word sounded strange to him, as if it came from another time and place.

"Yes, those stars you see at night? I'm from one of them. Specifically," she said, pointing at an opalescent star to the north that was barely visible in the fading daylight, "that star."

Carocol scratched his head nervously, keeping his dominant hand close to his blade. He wasn't sure what to do with this strange woman. On one hand, she was from another world that granted its denizens incredible magical powers. Certainly, she possessed powers far greater than simple healing spells. On the other, there was a warm beauty to her, and she had saved him from certain death.

"I'm called Rose Quartz, by the way, but you can just call me Rose if you like. What's your name?" the woman squealed, balling her fists eagerly like an overgrown child.

"C-Caracol," he responded nervously. He jumped back as Rose gasped loudly.

"That's an awesome name! Not like any of the other names on this continent. Do you know how many Smiths and Michaels I met? It was cool at first, but now..._boring. _It's refreshing to hear a name like yours."

Carocol wasn't sure of how to respond to this, so he decided to take in his surroundings. It was a forest clearing not unlike those on Yasha island, although the flora was unlike anything he had ever seen. The trees were bulbous and neatly proportioned, very different from the untamed palm trees that clawed at the ground on Yasha Island. Their trunks were flanked by piles of leaves of various colors. The air was far cooler than even the coldest night on Yasha Island, and not even the rays of sunlight that shone through the canopy could warm him.

He leaned against a tree, flinching as he felt the coarse surface scratch his skin. To his horror, he looked down to see the tannish color of his skin was gone. It was a bright shade of pink.

"What did you do to my skin?" he asked loudly, holding out his other arm for comparison. It too was pink, and suddenly he imagined himself looking like an erect flamingo.

"Sorry," Rose muttered nervously, "that's a side effect of my powers. It's harmless though... I think."

"You think," Carocol repeated listlessly, still checking every inch of skin that was visible. He removed a strand of his hair, and realized it too was a bright shade of pink.

"I couldn't let you die, Carocol. You were just an innocent bystander, that evil man had no right to get you involved."

Carocol's mind flashed back to earlier that morning, to the man in gold.

"Who was that man?" he asked, his desire for information overriding his distaste. Rose merely shook her head.

"I don't know," she muttered. "He said something about this world belonging to him, and urging me and the Diamonds to stay away. All I know is he was powerful enough to take out my entire entourage."

"There are other...gems here?" Before Rose answered, another question came to him. "And where is here?"

"To answer your first question, yes. There are good gems, and there are bad gems. As for where we are, I've heard some of the local humans use the word Zofia."

Carocol had more questions, but at that moment Rose raised her hand to silence him.

"We can talk more in the morning. You should get some rest, or eat something."

But Carocol wasn't hungry. He wasn't even tired. Instead, he unsheathed his sword and turned north.

"Thank you for your help, Rose," he said with a politeness his father would've praised. "But I must continue my journey. May we meet again someday."

The Yasha hadn't even taken a step before Rose moved in front of him.

"W-wait, but we only just met. I'm awfully lonely here without the other Crystal Gems…"

"Crystal Gems?"

Rose shook her head.

"I'll explain everything I promise, but just...stay here for the night. They'll be coming after you now…"

Carocol narrowed his eyes.

"Who will be coming after me? That man? The next time I meet him, I'll be more than ready, I can assure you."

"No, not him. Just...trust me."

A gust of wind rustled the treetops, and Rose's pink skin seemed to ripple. Though she appeared quite tender, Carocol knew better than to push his way past this woman. He sighed and set himself on the ground without a word.

"Thank you," she said relieved, and set herself down beside him.

Neither spoke for what seemed a half hour, as Carocol obsessed over the events of the day, and what more surprises would await him on his quest to this strange land.

"What a lovely planet to live on," said Rose quietly. Carocol looked over at her, but didn't respond. "I wish the others saw it that way," she added, staring up at the star she had indicated earlier.

And before Carocol could think of another question to ask her, she was asleep. He sighed and stared up at the star. He withdrew his sword with the intention of reminiscing about his home, but was surprised to see that the silver of the blade, like his skin and hair, had turned a bright pink. Instead of staring, however, Carocol merely smiled and placed the sword beside him as he closed his eyes.

He wasn't sure why, but it looked better to him.

At the same time Carocol and Rose drifted off to sleep, the young man known as Alm had sprung up in his bed. The candle next to his bed was still burning, albeit less brightly than before. Outside his bedroom window, the village of Ram slept peacefully, the only sound coming from the rusty windmill at the north entrance as the wind gently pawed at it.

Alm, however, had heard a voice screaming for help.

Alm pushed his blankets away, which were drenched with sweat, and moved to the window. There was no sign of a disturbance. The barn door was shut just as his grandfather Mycen had left it, and not a sound escaped from within its faded red walls. The windows of the neighboring houses were shrouded in darkness, the only light coming from the silver rays of the full moon. It was still low in the sky; Alm hadn't been asleep for very long.

He watched it was it rose slowly higher and higher, puzzling over what could've happened that day to inspire his nightmare. It hadn't been a very exciting day; he had sword training with Mycen in the morning, then spent the rest of the afternoon helping his best friend Gray gather tea leaves. In fact, Alm couldn't remember the last exciting thing to happen in Ram period, save for the strange lights that appeared in the north during the last Flostym.

The night after a vicious earthquake, which was sadly becoming a common occurrence throughout Zofia, a radiant pink light had exploded in the sky over the southern forest. The village guard was sent to investigate, but only returned with a couple of unblemished gemstones. Gray's father was quick to claim them, intending to sell them the next day in Zofia Harbor. To his dismay, the gems disappeared in the night.

Talk of a village thief ran rampant throughout town, although Gray insisted to Alm that there was no way a common rogue could break into his father's wares. The home had once belonged to Kliff's family, another friend of Alm, and had been bewitched by Kliff's mother to curse anyone who broke in with jelly-legs. On top of that, the shepherd dog had been locked in from the inside, and would surely have made a racket.

"It's like those gemstones just got up, opened the door, and walked out," he said.

All of this had taken place over a year ago, however. There was no reason, Alm thought as the moon continued to rise, that he would have nightmares about it now.

Just then, a slight movement in the village square caught his attention. Alm's pulse raced as he looked for the black shape he had just seen, but was disappointed when a small black cat emerged from behind the crude idol of Mila that smiled benevolently down on Ram from her perch. The cat mewed softly, and Alm watched it lick itself with mild amusement before it disappeared behind Gray's house.

Satisfied that nothing was amiss, Alm closed the window and returned to his bed. The candle had been reduced to a thin stream of smoke, but the moon was high enough for Alm to see where he was going. He glanced out the window at the stars, awash in the metallic glow of the moon at its full height, wondering like he always did if Celica was doing the same. He hadn't seen her for seven years, when Mycen had taken her away from the village.

Celica...Celica!

Alm shot up in bed for the second time, and put a hand to his head. It had been Celica who had been screaming in his dream. Wherever she was, she was in grave danger, there could be no doubt…

The blanket crumpled to the floor as Alm pelted over to his closet and slipped into his training gear. The navy blue cuirass was cold as it clung to Alm's skin, but he didn't care; he slipped on the rest of his gear and, as quietly as one could with a suit of armor on, crept to his door and opened it.

Alm could hear Mycen snoring from his room at the end of the hall, so he quietly tip-toed around the corner and down the stairs to the kitchen. One of the steps creaked loudly, and Alm was forced to freeze. Mycen's snoring stopped for a moment, and to Alm's horror, he heard the creaking of his grandfather's ancient bed as something moved. A few seconds later, however, Mycen's snores had returned. Satisfied, Alm stepped lightly down the remaining stairs, pausing once he reached the front door.

A voice much like Mycen's spoke to him from within, telling him his mind was playing tricks on him. Reminding him for the hundredth time that Celica was perfectly safe where she was, and that it would be dangerous to try and find her. This wasn't the first time Alm had given into his anxieties about Celica, and he'd gotten as far as the forest to the north once when he was 12 before Mycen had dragged him back home.

But then another voice slipped into his conscience. Telling him Mycen was holding him back. That it was folly that his grandfather train him, even though he had been assured he would never need to see combat. What had his training been for, if not to brave the uncertainties of the north country and reunite with his childhood friend?

"Sorry, grandpapa," Alm whispered as he pushed the front door open. Outside, the grass was wet and cool against Alm's legs. Another thought occurred to him then; he needed a weapon.

To his displeasure, opening the barn door (where his grandfather's prized blades were stored) without making a lot of noise was next to impossible. He pushed with all his might to make the loud creaking noises quick. Once inside, he ran and put his arms around MacNair's mouth, for his grandfather's prized black stallion had just woken up and was threatening to neigh loudly.

"Shhh," Alm cooed. The horse's eyes narrowed in protest, but after a few moments it turned away and closed its eyes once again.

Alm went over to the center of the barn, where he and his grandfather's training blades lay dormant in the hay. Alm picked one up and examined it, disappointed by how dull the blade was. It was no use; if he were going on a rescue mission, he needed a blade that could kill, not bruise or cut.

A sliver of moonlight streamed in through a hole in the roof, and a flash of steel caught Alm's eye. He hurried over and reached out where the flash had originated, his hands tightening around the rather unwieldy hilt of a large steel sword. For about a minute relief flooded through him as he emerged from the barn without a sound. There was no indication that his grandfather or anyone in town had heard him...until his foot landed on something soft and furry.

The cat he had seen before hissed in protest, a sound that echoed like shattered glass around the sleeping village. Soon enough candlelight could be seen moving behind the windows of the adjacent windows. This didn't bother Alm so much as the withered face that was now sticking out of his grandfather's window, looking down at his grandson in disappointment. Without a second thought, Alm ran as fast as he could to the village entrance, not looking back as front doors began to open around town and familiar voices regarded him in a half-asleep stupor.

"Wait, Alm? Wherdya think you're goin'?"

"Who screamed?"

"Hey, where's my cat?"

But by the time the villagers realized what was happening, Alm was already past the northern gate and in the forest.

Alm didn't stop to breathe until he reached the Chobi River, a small tributary that ran from Zofia Harbor down to the Diyo Channel in the south. He chanced a glance behind him, and was relieved to see that nobody had followed him. He cupped his hands in the river and greedily sipped the water he collected. The taste of salt burned his tongue and made his eyes water, but he managed to gulp it down with tremendous fortitude, feeling worse than he had before.

He spat and hyperventilated for a couple minutes until the taste was finally gone, hoping nobody had heard him. Every muscle in Alm's body felt as if it were on fire, but Alm knew better than to rest in the open. A few kilometers up the river, he found an oak tree that leaned lazily over the river, and climbed it with his remaining strength. Only once his head was rested against the prickly surface of the tree did Alm feel confident in shutting his eyes.

It was a tortured sleep, in which Celica's screams echoed in his ears. Alm woke several times in the night when he thought he heard footsteps beneath him, only shutting them once he was sure there was nothing there.


	3. Chapter 3: The Golden Dagger

We have already seen how Alm's nightmare concerning Celica prompted him to run away from the safety of Ram Village. He had no idea that his long lost childhood friend at that time was perfectly safe, studying within the walls of the Novis Priory across the western sea.

Very soon, however, she would be throwing herself into danger. If Celica knew what Alm thought of her, she would have likely slapped him across the face. She was no damsel in distress, or an innocent priestess confined to study. Beneath her pious exterior was a warrior, like her brother Conrad before her. It had never been in Celica's nature to scream in terror or run from a fight, something that unnerved the other students of the priory when she arrived.

As she grew however, her eyes grew gentler and her features more delicate. Though she never lost her thick skin, she slowly grew closer to her peers over time, especially Boey and Mae. Though Boey and Mae themselves bickered quite often, Celica found their company warming, reminding her of her youth in Ram Village.

Soon, she surpassed her peers in both martial and healing magic. Even Nomah, the wise but strict sage who trained the holy men and women in the priory on Novis, admitted that her skill was unrivaled. Though the priory kept her busy, and she could feel herself growing close to Mila, Celica still had trouble sleeping on nights when the moon was full. There it sat in the sky to the east, and Celica would wonder if Alm was observing the moon as well.

Today, the first day of Wyrmstym, will be different. Celica has risen earlier than any of her peers. She makes her way to the pulpit, where Nomah is expecting her. Though he is practically ancient in Zofian terms, at age 71, a nameless energy radiates from him. It penetrates Celica as she approaches, and though she doesn't shiver like she used to in his presence, her nerves tighten anyway. She notices, however, that he is leaning on some kind of case for support, the kind that holds swords and other weapons not normally permitted within priory walls.

"It is finally time, young one," says Nomah. "And there is nothing I can say to change your mind?"

There is no trace of longing in his voice; he expects the answer he received.

"No, Father," Celica says without hesitation. Nomah narrows his eyes, scanning every inch of Celica's body for a trace of recourse. She is wearing the suit of armor her grandfather, Mycen, left with her all those years ago. A beautiful contraption of the purest metal Nomah had ever seen, as if no blood had ever tarnished it.

Nomah smiles warmly, satisfied with the girl's resolve. Her eyes seem to be darting to the case between them.

"Here, I was saving this for this moment."

Greed was one of the first emotions trained out of Nomah's students, and yet Celica feels a surge of excitement at those words.

"Your magical prowess is splendid! However, you will need more than spells if you wish to survive the journey. This sword once belonged to the Royal House of Zofia. It was handed down to me ages ago, and now I will give it to you."

As Nomah opens the case, a golden aura seems to dance in the air above it. Nomah carefully wraps his arms around the item in the case, withdrawing a blade that is smaller and more brittle than a standard iron sword. But as soon as Celica puts her hands around it, the wind begins to funnel through the hollow windows. A holy energy far greater than anything she has felt in communion simmers in her blood like fire, and every inch of fatigue and doubt fades away.

"This is the Golden Dagger, a sword that has never rusted. It may not look like an ideal combat weapon, but this blade's might does not come from its length, nor its composition, but what it stands for. One day, you will understand, and when you do this blade will be greater than you could possibly imagine."

Celica merely nods, wanting to hold the sword in her arms for the rest of eternity. But as the cock begins to crow, she reluctantly sheaths the blade and makes her way to the front entrance without a word. She turns back one more time to face the dusty nave where she had spent every morning for the past seven years. Her eyes had been closed most of that time, and she wasn't able to take in the humble beauty of the priory with its stained-glass windows and musty pine benches.

All the anxiety that had left her upon laying her hands on the Golden Dagger returns, and something tells her she will never see the priory again.

She opens her mouth to say something, but Nomah has already gone. Down the hall, she can hear bodies moving in their chambers, and with one last fleeting look she walks briskly out the front entrance and into the world.

When Alm awoke, the sun was already well over the horizon. The shadow of the tree he had slept in was thin and homogeneous to the source; it was midday.

He jumped down from the branch, rubbing the back of his neck where the bark had rubbed up against him in the night. His stomach gave a loud growl, and he looked desperately around for any sign of food. Aside from the sounds of the river, however, there was nothing; no birdsong, no screeches of angry squirrels, not even the retreating hooves of a forest deer.

Something fell to the ground behind him as if in response to his concern, and Alm turned to see a single apple sitting there. He looked up, and realized he had conveniently slept in a very tall apple tree. Once he'd gobbled down the apple, the anxiety from the night before crashed down on him again. Celica, running away from the village, Celica, his grandfather who was certainly hot on his trail...and Celica.

He threw the apple core over his back into the river, and continued on the dirt path to Zofia Harbor. Alm had a loose idea of where it was; around four years before, he had traveled with Gray's family there to sell livestock. All the while, he nervously turned his head at every tiny sound, expecting to see his disappointed grandfather or one of his friends.

The path slowly grew more wooded, and the earthy smell and leafy din evened his breathing and cleared his mind. As the thick canopy engulfed the trail in darkness however, the intense feeling of fear raged again. A thick gray cloud engulfed the sun above, throwing the path into further darkness.

"...be ready."

The voice was so quiet, Alm thought it was nothing but a trick of the wind. That was, until another hurried whisper came from further up in the canopy.

"...don't know about him…"

There was a loud _swish _as Alm withdrew his grandfather's swordand dove forward, turned deftly as his back hit the dirt to face behind him. Nothing. He sighed, and sheathed his sword again.

"It was a bird taking off," he said to himself, and realizing how crazy he must've sounded talking to himself, continued ahead without a second thought. All the while, the whispers continued to follow him, until he could finally see sunlight on the path a half a mile ahead.

About ten minutes later, Alm emerged from the forest and into an endless expanse of meadow that seemed to reach the sky itself. Flowers of all colors, tones, and shades smiled at him from the ground, but Alm was in no mood to return the favor. His legs were tired, though not so much as his shoulders, which beg for him to take off his armor. Without a tree for Alm to hide in, however, stopping to rest wasn't practical, and there was no way he was going back to hide in the forest.

He sighed, and continued forward, hoping to find a thick bed of midnight flowers that would conceal his armor. Soon, his hair and body were drenched in sweat from the direct glare of the sun.

Finally, his feet grew too sore, and he threw himself on the ground, looking up at the sky. There was an orangish-yellow tone to the blue sky now; in only a few hours, the sun would set, and Alm would really be in trouble. But the flowers smelled so nice, and the scene was too beautiful to leave behind…

_Keep going..._a lone bee buzzed by his ear and landed in an edelweiss bloom beside him..._get up, the sun is about to go down_...there was a soft flap of wings in the air above him..._keep going…_

Suddenly, there was a series of thundering footsteps from the direction of the woods. Alm had barely emerged from his daze as Macnair came to a stop five yards away. On his back was the man Alm had dreaded coming across; his grandfather, in full armor. Knowing better than to outrun his grandfather's prized horse, Alm merely stood his ground, holding his sword to the side like a child that had been caught stealing candy.

"Did you think I didn't know where you were going?" Mycen called out when Alm was in earshot. He looked imperially down at Alm as a king might observe a subject. Even in old age, Mycen hadn't lost the gift of intimidation. Macnair pawed at the ground with his head down guiltily.

"I'm going to find Celica," Alm said simply. Mycen's expression remained stoic.

"You will not. You will pocket your sword..._my_ sword, and you will return to the village with me. You're a bright young man, Alm, you know you cannot defeat me."

Alm looked at the ground, at his grandfather's sword, and finally back at Mycen.

"No," he said simply.

Mycen huffed through his nose. Macnair chewed on the azaleas at his feet nervously.

"Alm, what's come over you? I understand you want to see Celica. You've wished it since the day I took her from you. But resisting me? This is new."

He sounded more intrigued than affronted, and Alm took his chance to explain what he saw the night before.

"I...had a dream last night. I heard her screaming, grandfather, and I…" he trailed off, only now realizing how ridiculous it sounded.

As he expected, Mycen snorted at this response.

"You're telling me a nightmare was all it took for you to sneak out of the house, steal my sword, and run away from the people that have given you everything? What folly is this?"

Mycen had skipped past being merely affronted, and sounded truly angry. Alm stared at the ground, not daring to meet his grandfather's glare. For a few moments, the only sound was Macnair munching on flowers until Mycen pulled on his reins.

"I'm disappointed in you, Alm. I've told you a hundred times, and I will continue to tell you. You are not ready to venture on your own. Especially if you still believe in dreams…"

"Well, I've survived my first day, haven't I?"

"You will see Celica again someday Alm," Mycen continued, ignoring Alm's question. "I guarantee it, but for now your place is in the safety of Ram Village."

Alm jammed his blade in the ground.

"Then why do you train me to fight? If there's something out there that can hurt me, why have me stay put so they can come and find me?"

Mycen opened his mouth to answer, but couldn't. The sun had moved from behind him, and Alm could make out his features. In all his years, Alm had never seen Mycen's skin sag like it did now.

Alm watched as Mycen dismounted MacNair, landing with a dull _thud _as his boots crushed what remained of the azaleas MacNair had eaten.

"There are things you will never understand about your life that I can't tell you yet. Some great, some terrible. But you aren't ready."

"Try me," he said.

But before Mycen could respond, two obtuse, jaundiced humanoids rose from the ground behind him. Their heads were oddly square, with disc-shaped appendages over their ears, and they wielded spears so large no human could possibly wield them

Four more of these creatures sprang from the earth behind Alm, and before the two knights had even drawn their swords, they were surrounded, six spears pointed at their chests. Alm and Mycen stood back to back, hands on their weapons. A familiar flapping sound, like that of delicate wings, came from the air above them, and both turned to see a blue, fairy-like creature flying down towards them.

"I'd keep those toys under grips if I were you," it said in a sickeningly girlish voice. "My Topaz won't hurt you, as long as you agree to come with us."


	4. Chapter 4: Destiny

Rose was nowhere to be found when Carocol woke the next morning. He tried to get to his feet, even as every inch of his body attempted to subdue him. The basilisk's poison still hadn't left his system, but he wasn't about to let it conquer him.

It was a warm morning in the Zofian forest where Rose had taken him. The sun had somehow penetrated the frozen wyrmstymal skies, but there was no birdsong, no rustle of leaves in the breeze. Carocol, having grown up on an island, possessed the uncanny ability to detect the many cadences of water, and he could hear the rushing of that life-preserving substance in great volumes in the south.

Carocol conceded to pull himself up with the help of a nearby tree, and quickly carved an arrow pointing south in the tree with his newly-pinkened blade. The journey south began slowly as Carocol learned to put weight on his legs again. The fauna left dull scratches and scrapes along his skin as he moved, but he knew the ability to feel them was a good sign. Soon enough, he could walk as if he had never been poisoned.

The trees parted after a mile's walk, and Carocol emerged on the coast of an aggressive stream of water. He recognized it immediately as the Diyo Channel; it was the only body of water that could possibly be this perilous. Carocol scanned the horizon for his homeland, a bit resentful that Rose hadn't mentioned how close they were to the southern coast. A small mountain range emerged from the ocean to the south, covered in bright green vegetation that greatly contrasted with the quickly browning trees around him.

Carocol allowed himself to observe his home for a time, imagining the cool sea breeze caressing his face, the thick scent of salt water tensing his muscles. All too soon, however, the sunlight disappeared behind an angry gray cloud and the resulting cold had invaded Carocol's nasal cavity. The mirage of his former life disappeared, and he was back in Zofia.

He thought for a moment of fishing, though it would take him some time to craft an effective pole, and the water would certainly have carried him away. On top of that, he still wasn't hungry, or thirsty for that matter. Soon, he'd given up on the idea and returned to the forest, the cold, orange leaves and high branches foreign and frightening to him.

It was when a particularly large droplet of dew hit him in the back and rolled slowly down his spine, making him stop and shiver, that he heard Rose's voice in the clearing. Her voice was quite unlike the day before, having lost its motherly inflection. It had a strange sadness to it, and yet Carocol could detect a trace of conviction.

When Rose came into view, Carocol realized she wasn't alone.

Two strange beings were talking animatedly with her. Their appearances contrasted significantly with each other; one was slender and had milky skin, her short hair flowing around the tips of her ears.

The other woman, however, was unlike any Carocol had ever laid his eyes on. Her hair was like a perfect square, and she wore strange goggles that obscured her eyes. What was even more pronounced was her outfit, a skin-tight bodysuit with a reddish star emblazoned over her torso. The parts that weren't clothed were deep red, as if she had been standing in the sun for too long. Her appearance didn't frighten Carocol, as much as it struck him.

Carocol, unsure if these strange arrivals were friend or foe, threw himself behind a tree and craned his ear.

"No...and Tiger-Eye too?"

"I'm sorry, Rose," said the slender woman. "They hit us so fast and so hard, we never had a chance. Garnet and I were lucky to get away in one piece."

Rose sniffed, and the three were silent for a moment.

"There's more," said the stranger woman. Her smooth voice reminded Carocol of the Rigelian nobility, who had once visited his home. "Sapphire has foreseen Aquamarine and her forces gathering humans as leverage. Homeworld is ramping up their efforts to force our surrender."

"But why?" Rose said with a mixture of exasperation and sadness. "They weren't getting anywhere before. Why not just leave this planet be? It's not like the Diamonds to waste resources…"

"Maybe they're embarrassed. I mean...a Pearl beating a whole squadron of Citrine single-handedly?" said the slender one with a hint of pride. She guffawed nervously. "That probably didn't sit well among Yellow's court."

"But even still," said Rose unabashed, and Carocol detected a hint of indignation in Pearl's face. "Yellow expects the most from her forces, but she's not incapable of accepting defeat."

There was a melancholic silence, and Carocol felt a pang of remorse.

"Rose, where did you say the human you found went?"

"Well, there's a marking here in the tree that indicates he went to the coast. Probably just fishing for food." The girlish quality of her voice returned. "Ohhhh, I should've gone with him, I've always wanted to try fishing."

"You still could...he's hiding behind that tree."

Carocol's heart froze.

"It's okay, Carocol, you can come out. They're not going to hurt you," said Rose gently.

Carocol slowly stepped out from his hiding place. The back of his shawl was wet and sticky, though whether it was from tree dew or his own perspiration Carocol wasn't sure. He stepped into the clearing confidently, keeping one hand close to his blade. Garnet was studying him intently.

"I'm glad to see you. Did fishing go alright?" Rose asked once Carocol had reached them.

"I wasn't fishing," Carocol answered, blushing. "I heard water, and I went to investigate."

He kept his voice even, hoping to keep his homesickness concealed. Carocol had never taken well to cooing and motherly affection. To his relief, Rose simply laughed.

"I see, you were thirsty. My power does have that effect on living beings."

_She had saved others from dying before? _Carocol though, forcing a cough in order to stop himself from blurting the thought out loud.

"Rose, can we, erm, talk about this human for a moment?" Pearl piped up, her voice uneven. She cast a furtive glance at Carocol.

"Oh, right! You should introduce yourselves! Carocol, this is Pearl and Garnet," she said, indicating the women in turn. "Garnet and Pearl, meet Carocol!"

"Helloooo…" Pearl said awkwardly. Garnet merely raised her hand. Carocol nodded his head in acknowledgment.

"But, Rose, we should reeeally talk about…" Pearl continued, tugging on Rose's shoulder.

"Oh I know! Isn't his pink hair incredible?" Rose gushed. Carocol felt himself turning a deeper shade of red. Garnet smirked at him from the corner of his eye.

Pearl shook her head, still smiling nervously.

"Y-yes, well...don't you think-"

"-he looks adorable? Even without the pink skin and hair, he's kind of dreamy if you look in his eyes the right way..."

"Rose!" Pearl said loudly in frustration, practically digging her hands into Rose's shoulder blade. "We can't drag a human around with us! We need to take him back to where he came from!"

Rose hesitated, and pulled away from Pearl's grip.

"Why not?"

Pearl's eyes screwed up in exasperation. Carocol could tell they had had this discussion before.

"Because, well...because..." Pearl sputtered, her eyes squinting in concentration. "Well it's dangerous for one thing! If we're fighting Homeworld forces and looking for Bismuth, he'll constantly be in danger."

"Oh stars! Bismuth!" Rose suddenly exclaimed. "She's still alive? Where is she?!"

"She and Beryl are fighting overseas," Garnet answered in a monotone voice, adjusting

her goggles.

"Buuut, back to the human-" Pearl interrupted impatiently, "-we can't take him with us. It's too dangerous!"

"He has a sword," Rose muttered distractedly, looking towards the ocean to the east. After a moment she smirked and winked at Carocol. "A better one now, at that."

Pearl groaned.

"So? Lots of humans around here have swords and axes and polearms and the like. Do you think that's going to stop Jasper or Aquamarine?"

It was Carocol's turn to feel indignant.

_So, she thinks I can't hold my own in combat, does she?_

Rose opened her mouth to respond, but suddenly her face darkened, as if she had just remembered something unpleasant.

"That human I encountered yesterday wouldn't have a problem taking out any gem," she muttered.

Pearl blushed, as if not accustomed to this sort of response from Rose.

"Right, w-well, that human had no problem beating this one either from the sounds of it."

Carocol shot a furious look at Pearl.

"I may not have the powers you do, but my father trained me in every form of Yasha combat. If these...gems wield traditional weapons like that-" he said, for he had just noticed the two swords around Pearl's waist, "-I can more than hold my own."

There was a loud _shiing _as Pearl withdrew one of her swords and pointed it at Carocol's chest.

"Fine, I'll duel you, just to prove my point about how futile…"

But before she'd finished her sentence, Carocol had withdrawn and swung his own blade at the hilt of Pearl's sword. The resulting collision sent the latter weapon into the air, until it was lost to the thick canopy.

"Need I say more?" he said coolly. Rose laid a hand on his shoulder.

"No, now please put your sword away, Carocol."

Pearl cast Carocol a look of utmost loathing, before jumping into the canopy to get her sword. She jumped elegantly from branch to branch, as if she were swimming.

"For now, we head west towards the ocean," Rose said. "We'll have to think of a way to get across the ocean, especially with a human in. Although, I guess he could technically breathe underwater now…"

Garnet, who had been watching Carocol and Pearl's exchange with mild interest, suddenly exhaled in alarm. Everyone turned to face her.

"I see...Aquamarine…" she said, her voice much higher than it had been before.

She adjusted her goggles again, a slight glint appearing from where her left eye would be.

"She has her army...she's going to try to capture two human males!"

She and Rose looked at one another with looks of resolve, and nodded their heads.

"Okay, lead the way Garnet," Rose said, as Garnet began sprinting north.

"W-wait!" Pearl shouted. "What about Bismuth?"

"She'll be fine on her own. Pearl!" Rose grabbed Pearl's shoulders before she could interrupt. "We can't let Aquamarine take any more humans."

Carocol left them to finish their conversation, sprinting after Garnet. He noticed how fast he seemed to be moving, faster than he had ever run before, and wondered if this was the result of another one of Rose's powers. If she was a god, she wasn't hiding it well.

Behind him, Pearl and Rose brought up the rear, hanging back so Carocol couldn't hear them.

"I wonder," Rose muttered breathlessly, "what Yellow and Blue would think of me fighting with a human?"

If there was a way out, Alm couldn't see it. The six Topaz warriors flashed their golden spears menacingly, and any movement threatened the possibility of being cut down.

In the air above them, the blue pixie began to cackle, a girlish, yet strangely condescending emission that made Alm's hair stand on end.

"You organics, and your primitive defensive strategies," she said with a sneer. "You're not quite as smart as the other ones. They at least knew when they were beaten."

"Any suggestions?" Alm tried to mouth to his grandfather, but Mycen was observing the pixie with the vigilance only a Zofian General could compete.

"I'm not sure exactly who, or what, you all are, but you have quite some gall threatening a former Zofian general and his grandson," he said, his voice as gravelly as ever. "I suggest you command your forces to leave us be, or your commanding officer will have to answer to the Zofian military."

The pixie cackled again, higher and longer than before.

"My Homeworld doesn't care about you humans and the pathetic little nations you have erected for yourselves," she said. "My Homeworld cares about results, and I can't return without giving the Diamonds what they want."

Alm nudged his grandfather in the back, hoping to get his attention; one of the Topaz had flinched slightly at the mention of 'Homeworld.'

"You keep mentioning a 'Homeworld,'" Mycen continued unabated, much to Alm's chagrin. "If you are going to capture us, we have the right to at least know where you are taking us."

The pixie landed on the head of the Topaz that had flinched, and leaned over until their eyes met.

"Listen to these organics, Topaz, thinking they can dictate how I do my work. I suppose a show of force is in order."

In unison, the six behemoths raised their spears vertically in front of them. Mycen and Alm extended their weapons away from their bodies, studying the behemoths for any sign of movement. Alm took the opportunity to whisper in Mycen's ear: "the one she landed on, go for it."

"I'm just saying, if you care about your short, organic lives, you'll lower those little toys of yours and I'll take you to the Diamonds in one piece," said the pixie matter-of-factly. "I may be an Aquamarine of the highest caliber, but I'm not above showing mercy."

Aquamarine yawned and lay sideways atop the Topaz' head, as if she were a noble observing a chariot race. "You'll want to make your decision quickly, I'm growing rather bored of this exchange."

"Okay," Mycen whispered back to Alm finally. "I'll take your word for it-" Mycen cocked his head to indicate the Topaz where Aquamarine lay, "-but when the rest of them bear down on me, you need to escape."

Alm's temple bulged, and he resisted the urge to punch his grandfather in the shoulder.

"No, I'm staying with you," he whispered. His grandfather shot him a stern look over his shoulder.

"Alm, get out of here, and don't argue."

Alm opened his mouth to respond, but Mycen cut him off.

"I've never fought anything like these things. How much of a chance do you think you'll stand?"

Aquamarine stood up impatiently.

"Okay, this is taking too long," Aquamarine cut in. "I'll give you thirty more seconds to lower your weapons, or I'll load you in my ship piece by piece."

Five seconds.

"Grandfather, I'm not leaving you. I got you into this mess."

"Alm…" Mycen whispered, exasperation in his voice.

Ten seconds.

"We'll lower our weapons if you lower yours," Alm shouted out in an attempt to stall for time. Aquamarine rolled her eyes, and Alm was reminded of a young Celica.

Celica…

Fifteen seconds.

"Wait, do you have a girl named Celica?" Alm yelled before Aquamarine could interrupt again. Mycen kicked him hard in the shins so that his eyes began to water, but he did not bow.

Aquamarine pulled a black ribbon out of her hair, and put it to her chin thoughtfully.

"Let's see, I only bothered to get the names of a few organics before their squirming began to bore me."

Twenty seconds.

"I don't recall one named...Celica," she said at the mention of her name, as if it were unpleasant to her.

Twenty-five seconds.

"All the same, your time is running out. Topaz, prepare to charge!"

The muscles of the Topaz warriors pulsed in unison. Sweat began to collect on Alm's forehead, and he could feel Mycen adjusting his grip on his prized silver blade.

But the charge never came.

At the thirtieth second, two very distinct things happened, the first slightly before the other. MacNair whinnied loudly, and Aquamarine turned to face the stallion. As she did, a pink shield collided with her forehead. Before she could even cry out, she vanished in a puff of dust, and a small teardrop-shaped stone fell to the ground.

The Topaz turned their heads to the east, where four strange humanoids were running towards them. All of them were wielding blades except for the second tallest one, who wore gauntlets the size of boulders around her hands. This was the humanoid who stood out the most to Alm, perhaps even more so than the male with pink hair and skin, or the pink woman who seemed to tower over the group.

Four of the Topaz turned to each other, nodded their heads in a show of silent formulation, and ran forward to meet the assailants. Alm turned around just in time to parry a sweeping blow from one of the Topaz that stayed behind, and was sent hurtling through the air, barely holding onto his sword as he crashed into a bed of wildflowers. The other Topaz darted forward to finish him off, but Mycen intercepted it.

The metallic symphony of battle rang in Alm's ears, and his muscles tensed with the realization that he was in his first battle. The Topaz that had swung at him knocked Mycen out of the way effortlessly, its legs pounding the earth as it charged Alm with the speed of a raging bull. Alm kipped up and swung upward with his sword, which collided with the full might of Topaz' spear. The impact rang every bone in Alm's body, but he held his ground, as the Topaz gracefully swung its spear towards his left flank.

Alm parried again, and soon the two were engaged in a true duel, their weapons swinging and meeting with exultations of steel in front of them. He patiently countered every strike, looking to take advantage of the Topaz' wide frame. He caught the Topaz with a quick slash to its right leg.

The pain only angered the Topaz, who took a vicious vertical swing at Alm and missed wildly. Alm wasted no time in jamming his sword straight into the behemoth's pelvis. It screamed out in pain, and Alm was bewildered by how high and soft its voice was. In only a second or two, it had vanished in the large cloud of sediment.

The explosionblinded Alm for a moment, and he barely had time to react as the Topaz that had been fighting Mycen rushed him. Alm held the Topaz' spear in place, the image of his grandfather writhing on the ground and clutching his abdomen appearing in the corner of his eye. Enraged, Alm roared at Topaz and managed to ward off the blow. Alm adjusted his position, prepared for the Topaz to charge again, but to his surprise it simply stared back at him, its eyes large and wet as if it were about to cry.

It took one sweeping look at the battle behind Alm before turning and running west. Once it was out of sight, Alm pelted over to his grandfather, who was still clutching his abdomen and dry heaving. The sounds of battle were still ringing behind him, but his grandpapa took precedence.

He couldn't lose Mycen, he couldn't lose his grandfather...It was all his fault that he was there in the first place…

"Heh, hehehe," Mycen breathed as Alm knelt down beside him. "I guess I've lost a step...that thing swung its spear to the left, but when I met it, it caught me with the other end right in the chest. The dull part," he managed to add, as Alm had instinctively checked for any signs of bleeding.

"Just knocked the wind out of me, I'll be a-alright," he shuddered, emitting an ugly-sounding cough.

"Oh grandpapa, this is all...I'm…" Alm said, feeling a burning in his eyes, unable to fight off the tears.

"A-Alm, you've broken one of the rules of chivalry," Mycen choked out. "If someo-one is fighting with you, don't leave them for a wounded man."

But as they turned to face the battle, it was clear the others didn't need help at all. The two tallest women were engaged in fierce combat with two of the Topaz soldiers, and seemed to be holding their own. The third tallest, a slender woman Alm had seen briefly entering the battle before, was nowhere to be found. The pink-haired man, however, was engaged in combat with both of the remaining two Topaz, swinging his sword so rapidly it was a wonder the two behemoths were still in one piece.

Alm and Mycen watched as the man deftly wrapped his blade around one of the Topaz' spears. Thinking he was trapped, the other Topaz raised its spear, but the man switched his grip on his sword, ran his legs up the Topaz' torso until his right foot collided with its face. The blow stunned it, and the man propelled himself in the air, before coming down with his full force into the back of the Topaz that had trapped him. It exploded in a cloud of dust like the one Alm had slain, and before the other Topaz could adjust, the man had plunged his sword through its head with superhuman strength. This one took a bit long to explode, only doing so once the man had withdrawn his sword.

The remaining Topaz attempted to run for it, but the woman with the gauntlets was faster. Both Alm and Mycen's jaws dropped as the woman's gauntlets launched from her hands like magic spells, crushing the Topaz' backs and reducing them to dust.

Alm helped Mycen to his feet. The three humanoids (Alm still wasn't sure what they were) checked their surroundings. The tallest of the three, the large woman with pink hair, exclaimed when she saw Alm, and rushed over to greet him with the other two in tow.

"Thanks, but wh-who are you?" Alm said, extending a hand. The man with pink hair was first to take it, looking down at Alm stoically.

"I am Carocol from the Island of the Yasha, and this is Garnet and Rose. I would introduce you to the one named Pearl, but…"

"I know…" Alm interrupted. "I'm sorry for what happened to her, I shouldn't have gotten you involved."

"Oh, she'll be fine," said the one named Rose. "She'll regenerate in a few minutes, good as new."

"Re...generate?" Alm said nervously. The only creatures he knew that could regenerate were Terrors, undead monsters given life by the god Duma. Yet, these people didn't seem to be dead...on the other hand, they looked more lively than any human from Ram Village.

"Th-thank you for your help," Mycen rasped, pounding at his bronze breastplate as if trying to beat the air out of his lungs. "We'll be returning home now."

The frustration bubbled in Alm's chest again.

"No, grandfather, I need to find Celica. She could be in danger, especially with those things we just fought running around."

"Our Homeworld has increased their presence on your planet," the one known as Garnet said softly. "They are capturing humans en masse in an attempt to get us to surrender. You would both be safer traveling with us."

Mycen spat on the ground, and attempted to stand on his own before doubling over again.

"Don't be ridiculous, we're knights of Zofia, we won't be pushed around by foreign invaders."

"These aren't like your human warriors and knights, these are Gems. Spacefaring beings with technology far more advanced than anything your kind will ever be capable of. What you saw just now was only a taste of what Homeworld is capable of."

Mycen studied the woman for a moment; it wasn't often he met someone who could debate him without flinching or stuttering.

"Listen, young lady…"

"I am much older than you," Garnet interrupted coldly.

"Right, well…" Mycen continued unabated. "It doesn't matter what is going on beyond this point. Alm and I will be returning to the safety of Ram Village…"

"No, grandfather, _you _are returning to Ram Village, I'm going with them to find Celica!"

Before Mycen could raise his voice again, however, Garnet stepped in between them.

"If I may," she said, and without warning, planted a kiss on Alm's forehead. He would've reacted a bit more forcefully to the incursion, had a stream of consciousness not overtaken him.

The world had disappeared, replaced by images that made no sense to him. He had the distinct feeling he was seeing into the future, although the scenes were moving far too fast for him to comprehend. All at once, he felt a broad range of emotions, from the deepest despair, to the sensation of glorious victory.

"I see," Garnet breathed, and Alm stumbled for a moment as the world returned in a dizzying flash of color. "The boy will come with us."

Mycen's lips thinned and his cheeks turned a bright red.

"He's my grandson," he said in a dangerous voice Alm had never heard before. "I get the final say."

"It matters not who gets the final say," Garnet remarked as calmly as before. "I have seen into the boy's future, and whether you attempt to prevent him or not, he will be coming with us."

In a moment, Mycen's face was only a couple of inches away from Garnet's.

"_My _grandson will be returning home with me," he repeated. Though frustrated with his grandfather, Alm knew better than to speak up when Mycen used that tone.

"Then he will prevent you," Garnet repeated, and Alm cringed, wishing she hadn't put it like that. "Regardless of what decision you make right here, right now, Alm will be joining us."

Mycen spun around to face Alm.

"You would fight me if it means traveling with them?"

Alm looked at the ground, then the sky; anywhere, so long as it wasn't his grandfather.

"Yes," he heard himself say. He finally forced himself to meet his grandfather's gaze, bracing himself for what would certainly be the worst tongue-lashing he would ever receive.

To his immense surprise, however, Mycen smiled.

"I suppose I really have taught you everything. I pray that Mila's divine protection-" (the human known as Carocol had shifted uncomfortably at the mention of "Mila") "-will keep you safe."

There was silence, as Alm wrestled away the swell of emotions inside him. The prospect at meeting Celica, the sadness of parting with his grandpapa...and regret that it had to end like this. He had been willing to fight Mycen, his flesh and blood, the man who had taken him in when his father had died. Who came to his bedside whenever Terrors haunted his dreams. Who had taught him how to be a man, in every aspect.

Without another word, he launched himself into his grandfather's arms.

"I'm sorry, grandfather, but I have to do this," he said slowly, tears burning the corners of his eyes again. "I have... to find Celica."

"I knew this day would come, as hard as I worked to delay it," Mycen said warmly. "But know this."

He pushed Alm back, and put both arms on his grandson's shoulders. His grandfather spoke like a Zofian taskmaster again.

"You will learn painful things on this journey. About the country you love. About the people you love. Most importantly, about yourself. There will be times of triumph, tragedy, and sadness. As well as I have trained you in swordplay and with the bow, I cannot prepare you for the hardship that awaits. Nobody can. So I ask you...are you ready?"

It was true that Alm had never known his parents, but what was there to know about people who were already dead? Suddenly, a feeling of dread overcame Alm, and for a second he considered returning to Ram Village. To the security of his bedroom, where he would be safe. Bored, wanting...but safe. He couldn't shake the feeling that a painful destiny awaited him, and that perhaps it was better to hide from those feelings.

But as soon as the thought of curling up in his bed crossed his mind, so too did the nightmares. Celica was in trouble, somehow he just knew it, and what purpose was there in training if he stayed in Ram Village as a farmhand for the rest of his days? So as Alm cleared his throat, he stared resolutely at his grandfather, Zofian pride burning like a green flame behind his eyes.

"Yes."


	5. Chapter 5: The Summoning of the Servant

A few hours later, on the other side of the ocean from where Alm had bid his grandfather goodbye, storm clouds were conjuring. Celica's mood matched that of the sky. She was tired, hungry, and wasn't prepared to add "sopping wet" to the list.

The easiest solution would be to turn back and pay the 10 silver marks to stay in the inn she had passed on the way out of town. If there was anything Nomah had taught her, however, it was the easiest solution wasn't always convenient, and the thought of bunking with drunken sea wenches wasn't comforting.

She harbored no ill will towards women of the sea, mind you; in fact, in her younger days, she'd looked up to those cursing maidens. Stepping on the toes of the men and waving their swords by their sides as they walked. Celica thought of the dagger Nomah had given her, symbolic of the completion of her training. She realized now that her life had come full circle.

Like those women of the sea, she too had a blade of her own. A dagger that symbolized her growth into womanhood...or perhaps something more.

But a meek priestess bunking with a loud-mouthed woman of the sea? Not likely.

The next settlement was a day and a half's journey up the road. The only option was to sleep most holy men and women would dread having to spend the night out of doors, however, Celica found comfort in the thought of bunking in the wilderness. Most of her peers had grown up indoors, studying holy books in densely populated cities, whereas she had grown up surrounded by trees, birds, and the rest of Mila's children.

Thunder growled in the distance to the South, prompting Celica to look for a tree with branches large enough to protect her from the rain. As she was in the heart of the Novis plateau, however, trees of any kind would be hard to come by.

There was a flash of lightning, and in that moment something a half a mile ahead inspired her. An amalgamation of crooked arches and rectangular shapes, shielded by a rusted old gate. It was the Novis Cemetery, where her brother Conrad was buried. Her heart began to beat out of her chest.

The excitement was enough for Celica to forget her dehydration and hunger, hurrying ahead until she reached the gate. Another lightning bolt illuminated the scene, revealing a thick chain wrapped around the gate doors. A hollow keyhole connected the two ends of the chain, mocking her. Celica sighed, and pulled on it half-heartedly, knowing it wouldn't break.

To her surprise, the chain disintegrated as soon as she fingers made their mark, and the gate slid open with an eerie creak. Celica paused, wondering if it would be wise to break into a private cemetery at this time of night, before the sound of falling rain ran up on her from behind.

She darted between the graves, desperately looking for some kind of cover, before spotting a mausoleum at the peak of a gentle knoll. She slid inside, choking on dust that rose from the cold floor as the sky opened behind her.

She took a moment to catch her breath, pulling a loaf of bread from her rucksack and taking a bite. It was rock-hard, and when she tried to hold it out in the rain to soften it, a nearby crack of thunder made her pull back.

Celica tried as hard as she could to enjoy her situation, as she had always been trained to do. This was Mila's way, as written in Mila's Prognosticus Chapter 43: the toughest soldiers will get the toughest battles. Surely there had been holy men and women who'd been through much worse than a stormy night in an eerie cemetery.

Indeed, after a couple of hours of heavy rain and booming thunder, the rain thinned out and the strikes of thunder became more intermittent. Celica felt brave enough to venture among the old graves and find what she had been looking for. Even with the soft glow of her holy wick, a holy flame she could call upon in darkness to light the way, she could barely make out the names on the graves, which had faded with age.

It was during a very quick burst of lightning that Celica swore something moved in the corner of her eye.

_Tricks of the light, _she thought. Another distant flash of lightning illuminated the cemetery, and a stone gargoyle guarding an important-looking tomb seemed to scratch itself.

The gargoyle distracted her from the path, and she nearly fell on her face when she tripped over a lone tombstone separated from the rest. Unlike the other tombstones, which were cracked and jaundiced with time, this one looked brand new, casting a silver sheen as Celica leaned down to read the inscription.

_Siegfried, who could feel nothing but kindness,_ it read. The excitement she felt at finding her brother's grave faded instantly, and a deep sadness overtook her. She broke off a small piece of bread and laid it on top of the tombstone.

As soon as her fingers made contact, however, she felt a strange prickly sensation on the back of her hand. She looked down at the back of her hand, surprised to see three separate cuts forming there. The harsh winds and rainfall had ceased, and Celica realized how silent the Cemetery was..

The soft sound of movement from the wet grass behind her made her jump. She whirled around, but found nothing. She sighed, and turned back to her brother's grave. Barely ducking in time as a scythe attempted to decapitate her from the darkness.

She withdrew her Golden Dagger and pointed it at her foe, a gargoyle perched on her brother's tombstone that leered at her from five feet above. Before Celica could react, the creature roared and advanced. Celica blocked the strike just in time, but the resulting clash sent the dagger hurtling through the air. Both combatants watched as it crashed into the back of one of the tombstones and broke in half.

Celica's heart froze; the prized blade she had received only that morning was no more.

A screech from behind her brought her back to the present. The gargoyle jumped and raised its scythe to full height, and Celica instinctively let loose a Fire spell. It caught the beast in the chest, and it fell to the ground writhing and crying out in agony.

Celica felt a stab of remorse, but in an instant something with mealy skin wrapped itself around Celica's abdomen. Her eyes watered at the smell of rotting flesh, unable to choke out her fire incantation as the undead assailant breathed in her ear.

Out of desperation, she kicked back with all of her might and fell to the ground, as the revenent roared and let her go. Celica kipped up and pointed her magic hand at the corpse who was eying its newly amputated leg as though it were only a scratch. There was a flash of lightning, and Celica's heart froze again; dark, moaning shapes were emerging from their burial plots, crawling towards Celica as if following some demonic command.

She fired another spell at the revenant who had attacked her. The top half of its body recoiled from the force of the spell, but it continued to hop towards her. Celica's hand was burning again, flaring up every time she fired a spell at an approaching revenant. She moved back slowly until she hit her brothers tombstone, crying out in agony as every muscle in her hand seemed to explode again at the touch.

Even in the dim light of her holy flame, she could make out the swiftly encroaching army of the damned. Another screeching gargoyle drowned out the cacophony of moaning for a split second, and soon it had landed in front of them with its scythe pointed at Celica's heart, beckoning them forward.

_No...it can't end like this…_

Her mind flashed to Nomah, his face haggard and covered in wrinkles. To Boey and Mae, who she knew would be upset that she hadn't invited them to come with her. A boy with green hair she hadn't seen in years, trying his hardest to smile, not enough to hide the tears in his eyes.

"Alm…" she muttered subconsciously, focusing her eyes on the holy flame as if it were the boy in her mind. The revenants were so close now, she could make out their features. Their eyes rolled in the backs of their heads, and hardened veins traveled down their limbs like turbid black rivers.

She would die without a home, having left everyone who had ever cared for her, and for what? A Goddess she had never even met? She laughed softly in spite of herself, waiting for the end she deserved…

Soon, she could feel one of the revenant's haggard breath on her face, but the bite never came. Instead, there was a sickening slicing sound, like a knife cutting through a thick piece of meat. Celica opened her eyes, a sharp..._something _only inches from her nose, sticking through the revenant's torso.

"Let's get down to Bismuth!" said a deep woman's voice, and the sharp object retracted, cutting the revenant in half. A thick, coarse hand reached out from the darkness, and Celica took it. The holy flame unveiled her savior, and Celica wasn't sure whether it was another Terror or not at first. It had long, pasta-like hair, each strand a different color. In its chest was a hollow opening in the shape of a square that obscured the same bright colors as her hair.

"You okay, hon?" she said in the same, deep voice. Celica nodded, still not sure what to make of this strange woman. "You stay there, I'll take care of the re-ARGH!"

In that moment, the gargoyle had wrapped its talons around the woman, and was carrying her into the air.

"Put me down, you big clod!" she shouted as she swung wildly at the creatures legs, before being carried out of sight. Celica fired another spell at one of the advancing revenants, holding her hand as if to contain the burning sensation.

The gargoyle barked at her from above, and Celica only looked up in time to shield herself with her arms as the woman landed on top of her. The woman was strangely light, despite her stocky appearance, and Celica still managed to mutter another fire incantation at an approaching revenant with the woman on top of her. Like the other terrors, the spell only stunned the animated corpse, and it made a horrible roaring sound as it moved even faster.

"Well, too bad we couldn't get to know each other," said the woman, helping Celica to her feet. Celica watched as the woman's arms transfigured themselves into sharp points.

"Wha-who are you?" Celica said as she decapitated the encroaching revenant with a well-timed kick to the temple.

"You can call me Bismuth," the woman said, with bravado unbefitting a doomed warrior. "You gotta name?"

"Celica."

Bismuth smiled.

"Ha, I like that name! You've got some spunk, kid. More than some of the other humans I've met. How'd you learn to use fire like that?"

"This?" Celica asked, aiming a fireball into the advancing pack. There was a smell of burning flesh, but the horde advanced unimpeded. Celica clutched her hand as it throbbed painfully again. "My teacher Nomah taught me," she said wistfully, trying to conceal her pain.

"Ha, nice, but can you do this?"

Bismuth's hands transfigured again, this time resembling two big mallet heads. With blinding speed, she darted forward and hammered them together, crushing the head of a revenant and dispelling huge chunks of flesh and tissue.

Celica wondered if this was the appropriate time for a contest of abilities, but smiled regardless.

"Here, let me give you a hand," said Celica, but on the word "hand," there was a blinding explosion of red light from her spellcasting hand. Overcome with pain, Celica put her other hand to her head and closed her eyes.

"Whoa," was the only word Celica heard, before the sound of a great sword being unsheathed, followed by the vile howls of the revenants as something cut them down one by one, filled the night sky.

"You can open your eyes kid, they're gone," Bismuth said. Celica opened her eyes, shocked at the sight that greeted her. The limbs and torsos of the revenants were swiftly fading to ash, having been cut into pieces by a weapon greater than even her prized dagger. As the last of the revenants dissolved into nothingness, Celica finally noticed the one responsible for this purge, poised in the epicenter of it all.

It was a woman, wearing midnight blue armor with silver armor that glowed even in the faint moonlight. Her bobbed hair was thick and gold like rolling fields of grain. Like the woman's armor, there was a certain soft glow to her skin. As she turned to face Celica, her green eyes commanding and compassionate at the same time, Celica noticed the strange concentration of energy in her hands. She wielded this strange magic as if it were a sword.

She approached Bismuth and Celica slowly, her invisible blade held out at her side. Finally, she looked appraisingly into Celica's eyes, speaking with a voice of such candor that even Bismuth, who had been observing her like one might observe an insect on a windowsill, paid attention.

"I am the Servant Saber, summoned by the mage worthy of commanding my blade," she said without blinking. "I ask you...are you my Master?"

The rainstorm that had forced Celica to bunk in the graveyard for the night had finally reached the mountains to the north, generating a soupy haze that blanketed the peaks and valleys like frosting.

Contrary to the other gems and organics, Aquamarine loved the rain, letting the droplets slide down her back and through her aqueous wings. But tonight, she was in no mood to enjoy the elements.

_Puh, those Crystal Jokes, _she thought, bile rising in her throat at the thought of being defeated by a Rose Quartz. Losing to any kind of Quartz soldier was a personal affront to one of the (self-professed) Diamond Authority's most trusted gems, but the one who had shattered Pink Diamond...

Aquamarine hovered for a moment and shuddered. While most of the gem soldiers on this miserable planet had learned of Pink Diamond's fate, whether by word of mouth or from a report one of those dullard Ruby guards she employed had filed, the Diamonds had yet to find out. The only other high-ranking officer on Earth, worthy enough of speaking to the Diamonds at least, was Jasper, who was last seen fighting humans in the north country.

A twinge of jealousy watered down Aquamarine's anxiety. Like Rose, Jasper was a Quartz, albeit an effective one. She was the only Grade AAA (meaning a perfect cut) gem to emerge from the Beta Kindergarten, located in the harsh Northern Desert. Despite Jasper's accomplishments, Aquamarine found it insulting that a lowly soldier could command the same respect as her.

She imagined Jasper, on board the hand ship that would take them home, laughing in her face as she reported her defeat at the hands of Rose Quartz, a couple of defective gems and two humans. Deep down, she had wished that Rose hadn't let her go once she'd reformed; even shattering would be worse than admitting weakness in the presence of Yellow Diamond.

Aquamarine sighed, and settled herself in a patch of grass that overlooked the valley. She would never say it out loud, but Aquamarine could concede that this miserable rock had its bright spots. The earthy smell of damp mountain soil, the commanding booms of thunder, the flashes of light that illuminated the haze for a brief moment. She let herself enjoy the view for a moment before the sound of footsteps prompted her to hide. She found a small patch of brush from an organic's campfire, and ducked behind it as a tall organic climbed up to where she had just been floating. Its features were indistinguishable from underneath its traveling cloak, although its skinny torso was enough to tell Aquamarine that this organic was relatively early in its lifespan.

_Perhaps this won't be a failed mission after all, _she thought, untying her wand from her hair and taking flight. The organic stopped walking as Aquamarine flew in front of it, holding its cowl over its face tightly as the wind picked up.

"I'm afraid I need to ask you to come with me, human," she said in as sweet of a voice as she could manage. The organic said nothing. Aquamarine smiled, satisfied with this response. "Well, I appreciate your compliance, human, and I promise this will only hurt…"

But before Aquamarine could finish there was a flash of gold and an otherworldly hum, and a sword flew out of the murky darkness. It caught Aquamarine in the chest, and in a moment she had poofed for the second time that day.

From within the safety of her gem, she could hear the organic speaking to someone else.

"Was that necessary, my King?" The voice was imperious and airy, like that belonging to a snobbish Sapphire. The voice that followed, however, dwarfed that arrogant cadence with his own.

"These pathetic little pests continue to populate my world, even after I have swatted them away." A hand clamped around Aquamarine's gem, but try as she might to reform, the hand held her down with a strength that rivaled that of the Diamond's. "They are like locusts. Nothing but pests that invade, breed and overpopulate. They have no idea how iridescent they truly are."

A vein bulged in Aquamarine's temple. Iridescent?!

"Between them and the terrors, it has become a dangerous time for travelling," said the first voice. "The commonfolk of both Rigel and Zofia have been in uproar about it."

"Ahh, Berkut, my young and most noble Master," said the second voice. "That is because those fools do not understand our ambitions. No lowly peasant or merchant could possibly understand the laws of the Gods, their deepest desires, their true purpose…"

"And yet," the one known as Berkut cut in. "With the Emperor gone...it has become far more difficult to meet their demands. Many are asking for my abdication…"

"Is what we have done not what you wanted?" said the second voice.

"Yes, but…"

"I was not summoned to this realm so you could abandon our pursuits when the road grew difficult," the second man said slightly louder, and though there wasn't a trace of anger in his voice, Aquamarine was reminded of the presence of Yellow Diamond. "We are partners, Berkut, and we both shall benefit from the realization of our ambitions. If we are divided, all of our ambitions are folly. Do you understand?"

"Yes, but…" Berkut repeated sheepishly.

"The Emperor, your father, is dead by my hand. You are now the rightful ruler of Rigel, and we need only destroy this boy Alm-" Aquamarine pulsed at the mention of the boy's name "-to eliminate any contention to the throne. Much of what you already want has been accomplished, and now you must uphold your end of the bargain."

There was a pause. The man's grip on Aquamarine weakened, though not enough for her to reform.

"Together, we can rid the world of terrors, these worthless rocks who would try to take my oyster for their own-" Aquamarine could feel the man's eyes boring into her gem "-and all of our enemies. But only together."

"Yes, I'm sorry for questioning that, my king."

The second voice merely grunted, and Aquamarine rubbed her back as her gem was dropped to the ground.

"Your wife is a powerful master, and my strength rivals that of when I was still alive," he observed.

"Why do you mention Rinea at this time?" Berkut asked slowly.

"Because there is a rival to the south. Another master, who has summoned their servant this very eve."

"Impossible…" Berkut blurted out. "Another master? But you had promised me...promised _us _that there was…"

"...only one," the second voice finished. "It seems Duma's counterpart lives after all."

"And this other Servant...are they as powerful as you?"

The second man laughed, a pompous, drawn out sound.

"No Servant could possibly match me. I will admit this development may delay our progress, especially if our paths are destined to meet, but I can assure you we will reach the same outcome."

Berkut sighed in relief.

"Now, we must find a place to rest. Morning shall arrive soon, and our encounter with your contender Alm only draws closer, if the reports of your spies are to be believed."

"He is camped on a hill overlooking Zofia Harbor," Berkut stated. "The attack on the Harbor will play out as planned. Once my men have him, I can execute him myself. That pathetic little peasant's insurrection ends tomorrow."

Finally, the footsteps began to retreat, and Aquamarine felt safe to reform. With newfound resolve, Aquamarine hurried north. Aquamarine's pride for her rulers and her homeworld would always be steadfast; that had been how she was created. Nevertheless, some unknown fear gnawed at her from within, and she hoped never to meet those two organics again.


	6. Chapter 6: The Crystal Deliverance

Chapter Six: The Crystal Deliverance:

It was incredible to Jasper how quickly things got dirty on this miserable planet. She pressed her hand to the light controls, which hummed and buzzed before illuminating the lime-green interior of her hand ship.

Dead insects littered the ship's communication console, but aside from that it seemed to be in working order, much to Jasper's dismay. She cursed Aquamarine for being late, no doubt finding any excuse to miss their scheduled Diamond conference. It was just like that little pest to miss meetings where they would have to deliver bad news.

Only a year ago, when the Crystal Gems had first emerged and wiped out Holly Blue Agates forces in eastern Rigel, Aquamarine had conveniently forgotten that she had double-booked a scheduled human roundup that same day. They both knew Yellow Diamond didn't have qualms with taking her anger out on messengers; Aquamarine just knew how to pick her battles.

With any luck, Blue Diamond would join the conference and keep Yellow somewhat grounded, but this was as likely as a Peridot betraying Homeworld. Blue had her own colonies to worry about after all, and the only reason Yellow took any interest in the Earth was because it was Pink Diamond's colony.

_Oh stars...Pink…_

Jasper still hadn't thought of how she would explain what happened to Pink. Though Jasper had only met Pink a couple of times in passing, her warm smile and child-like demeanor had more than endeared Jasper to her. Unlike the other quartz soldiers, who were content to be Pink's plaything, Jasper was ambitious, and when she was recommended for a promotion from Yellow Diamond, she was glad to accept it.

After a few deep breaths, Jasper wiped the insect corpses from the console and placed her diamond communicator in its place. The familiar hum of Diamond song filled the ship, which only made her anxiety worse. Finally, the image of Yellow Diamond's Pearl instantiated, looking more superior than ever.

"Jasper, I must say it's refreshing to see you again," Yellow's Pearl said in that posh, drawling voice Jasper so detested. "Where is Aquamarine? Blue Diamond is eager to hear her report as well."

"She's...uh... I don't know where she is," Jasper muttered. Pearl's lips curled into an ugly sneer. "Then I suppose you'll have to present the report yourself. Yellow Diamond and Blue Diamond are standing by, please hold."

Static filled the screen, and the radiant tones of Yellow Diamond echoed off the walls of the ship again. Panic gripped at Jasper's heart, and she desperately thought of a way to ease the conversation into Pink's fate.

_I'll start with the successful human capture in southern Rigel...no, some of them escaped. I can mention the great numbers in the Prime Kindergarten! But, that would mean mentioning Pink…_

All too soon, the song faded and Yellow and Blue Diamond's faces loomed over her. Blue concealed her face with her cowl, so that Jasper couldn't make out her expression. Yellow's eyes were vacant, examining the back of her hand disinterestedly as Jasper saluted.

"My Diamonds, my most lustrous, gracious, perfect…"

"Let's get on with it, Jasper," Yellow interrupted, staring sideways at the quartz commander.

"O-of course, my Diamond. I am reporting to you from my handship on planet Earth," Jasper stuttered. Yellow raised an eyebrow.

"I see that," she replied dryly. "And I see you take care of it in a way befitting a quartz soldier. No regard for sanitation whatsoever. Where is Aquamarine?"

"She is...on a human collecting mission," Jasper said quietly.

"Good," Yellow said, looking down at another screen filled with charts. "At least one of you is doing your job. Although, I will offer praise for your defeat of some of those Crystal Gems in your last mission."

"Thank you, my Diamond," said Jasper, a hint of her trademark confidence returning to her. As she opened her mouth to deliver her report, however, it was Blue who asked the question she had been dreading.

"Why have we not received any transmissions from Pink?"

Sweat beaded and formed around Jasper's gem on her forehead.

"W-well, I was just going to get to that. S-s-she h-had an a-a-a-accident," she managed to say. Yellow turned to give Jasper her full attention. Blue removed her cowl, and put a hand to her mouth.

"What kind of accident?" Blue whispered. Jasper's mouth opened and closed, but she could think of no way to say it.

"What kind of accident?" Yellow chorused, far more sternly and slowly.

"Pink was shattered," Jasper finally blurted out. The response was as violent and immediate as she'd imagined it would be. Yellow slammed her arms down on her console, screaming at Jasper to explain. Tears the size of puddles flowed down Blue's face as she sobbed into her hands uncontrollably.

"By the time my forces arrived, she was already broken. The rest of her entourage was destabilized, but otherwise unharmed."

"Do you think I care about those gems, when a fellow Diamond has been shattered?" Yellow screamed, her eyes red and bulging like those organic creatures the humans called bulls. She punched a hole through the screen with the charts, and fired electricity around the room. Jasper made out Yellow's Pearl running for cover in the had never seen Yellow lose her composure like this.

Contrary to her hope that Blue would diffuse Yellow of any outburst, Blue proved to be entirely useless, merely sobbing into her hands as Yellow took her anger out on her temple.

Finally, the electricity crackling on the surface of Yellow Diamond's skin ebbed, and she took a seat with a hand to her forehead.

"Who is responsible for this?" Yellow said in her most dangerous voice, her eyes staring through Jasper.

"W-well, once the gems reformed, we realized a Rose Quartz supposedly in her employ was missing, along with another gem in her entourage. I think both of them played a role in her death."

At the word "death," Blue gurgled and sobbed even louder. She disconnected, leaving Jasper alone with Yellow.

"It had to have been the Rose Quartz."

Yellow leaned in, until Jasper could see every muscle on her forehead.

"I am coming to Earth myself. This little 'rebellion' has gone too far, and neither you nor Aquamarine can contain it. And White…"

To Jasper's surprise, a flicker of fear ran across Yellow's face.

"White will be notified."

And with that, the screen disappeared, and the ship was empty and silent once more.

"Before we continue on our journey," Rose started in a low voice the next morning, "I think we owe the humans an explanation." After Alm and Mycen separated, they had walked further north for a couple of hours. It wasn't until the sun began to creep behind a dense gathering of storm clouds to the east that the sails of schooners and trade ships began to appear on the horizon, reflecting the flickering, orange light of the Zofian Lighthouse. The party had come to a rest on a hill overlooking the cobblestone streets and tiled rooftops of Zofia Harbor, where they would take a ship across the sea to eastern Rigel.

"Explain what?" Alm said as he yawned.

"Who we are. Why we're here."

"So do it," Carocol said, a slight edge to his voice. "It's cold, and I have a pilgrimage to complete. I need to know if we're really all on the same page."

Rose cleared her throat.

"Yes, well...Pearl, Garnet, a few other gems and I make up the Crystal Gems."

"Crystal...Gems?" Alm repeated with an odd expression. Rose sighed.

"Look, we were under attack when we came up with it, we didn't really think about changing it. In any case, we come from a planet far, far away from here. Each gem," she said, putting her arms on Garnet and Pearl's shoulders, "on our world is made to serve a specific function for the Diamonds."

"Diamonds?"

Rose smiled weakly and nodded.

"Yes, the Diamonds. There are four: White Diamond, Yellow Diamond, Blue Diamond-"

Garnet made an odd noise, "and Pink Diamond. Well, I should say there _were _four…"

Pearl and Garnet exchanged curious glances, and met Rose's eye.

"Pink Diamond was shattered by that human in gold."

Their reactions to this revelation differed greatly. Pearl made an odd gasping sound, before putting her hands over her mouth, as if to keep from vomiting. Garnet, however, smiled broadly, and put her arms around her own shoulders.

"My...R-Rose! Why didn't you tell me?!" Pearl shouted, putting her arms on Rose's waist and shaking her. Carocol was reminded of his father whenever he tried to shake coconuts loose from the palm tree that hung over their hut.

"Well, I was so excited about meeting Carocol, I...it just slipped my mind…" Rose said sheepishly, blushing and staring at the horizon. There was another gust of wind, more powerful than the last, but Rose didn't so much as move an inch from the force of it.

"There's more," she added, as Pearl curled up into a ball at her feet, "but I'll get to that. So, ah...where was I? Oh, right, the Diamonds...Well, there are three of them, at least now. Each of them have colonies, other planets where they produce more gems to serve the empire. The Earth was Pink's first and only colony."

Alm and Carocol said nothing, so Rose continued.

"I served under Pink Diamond. I was happy being a Quartz soldier and serving my Diamond...until one day, when I wandered away from my Kindergarten-"

"Kindergarten?" Alm repeated.

"Yes, it's a place where gems are made. But as I wandered away from my Kindergarten, I began to realize how beautiful your planet is. This green stuff called grass, the endless oceans, even your home island, Carocol."

Carocol grunted in response. Homesickness still gnawing at his heart, but he wouldn't show it in front of strangers.

"I felt something I had never experienced on my Homeworld, something Homeworld didn't even have a word for. It was freedom. Freedom from the Empire. Freedom from the Diamonds. Freedom from...well, just freedom."

Alm sighed, and got to his feet.

"The Earth you describe sounds like the kind of place I'd like to live in too."

Rose's expression saddened.

"What do you mean?" she asked. Alm pointed to the north.

"In that direction is the Rigel Empire. They have subjugated the Kingdom of Zofia for over a hundred years. My grandpapa, Mycen, once fought against the Empire as a member of the Deliverance, a band of Zofian rebels that fought for Zofia's independence. In the end, they were successful, and when Emperor Rudolf took the throne of Rigel, he granted us our independence."

Rose smiled and put a hand on her hip.

"But that's a good thing! I wish it were that easy for us…"

Alm shook his head and walked to the edge of the hill, observing the graying sky.

"Rigel has become aggressive again. It's become dangerous to travel. Terrors roam the countryside, killing innocents and spreading plague and death. Crops are failing all over the kingdom, and the birds and the insects are hiding."

Pearl and Garnet were both on their feet now, observing him.

"That's why I'm trying to find Celica. She was my best friend when we were very young, but one day Mycen suddenly took her away to a priory on the other side of the ocean. Celica was always so dedicated to her studies, and to the Goddess Mila. She must be travelling north to Duma Tower, to appeal to her and save our kingdom, but it's too dangerous."

"How do you know this?" Garnet spoke up after a moment's silence.

"I just know!" Alm said, more aggressively than he'd meant to. "I...I know her better than anyone, even Grandpapa."

There was more silence. Behind them, the sea roared and rammed into the coast, though not loud enough to mask the drunken exultations of sailors in the village below. For a brief moment, the clouds parted and Alm could feel the warmth on his back.

"I've heard humans mention Duma and Mila, who are they?" Rose asked.

Alm inhaled through his nose and continued.

" They're Gods who took the form of dragons, and fought against one another thousands of years ago. Mila wanted the people of Valentia to live without hardship or strife, and to value peace. Duma, her elder brother, valued strength, survival, and willpower, and believed this could only be attained through hardship."

"Wow, and I thought Yellow and Blue were day and night," Rose muttered. "I suppose gems and humans are more alike than I thought."

"No."

It was Carocol who had interjected.

"Peace and war...what folly," he continued when nobody said anything. "True peace is only attained when there is silence, and silence can only be attained with force. When two forces meet, there is war. One always leads to the other."

"Then how would you choose to live?"

Carocol narrowed his eyes at the Zofian.

"The middle road."

Alm guffawed.

"That's impossible. You're describing a life without meaning."

"What I'm describing," Carocol said, moving towards Alm until they were only a couple of feet apart, "is a life without bloodshed. My people have lived for hundreds of years without giving into the same megalomaniacal forces of peace and justice like you and the others of the mainland."

Alm nodded. A gust of wind blew between them, rustling their hair but doing nothing to waver their expressions. Rose, Pearl, and Garnet watched the argument nervously.

"I see," said Alm in a gentler voice. "You're one of the Yasha…"

"Indeed," Carocol responded. "Hundreds of years ago, my ancestors fled the mainland to escape the gods. We live a life where we can appeal both forces, which has kept them out of our affairs."

"Then why come back?" Alm shot back, his hand dangerously close to his blade. "What purpose do you have on the mainland?"

Carocol smiled and made his way back over to the gems, making sure to bump into Alm's shoulder as he did.

"I have a mission laid out before me. I am to locate the sword that felled both Duma and Mila, pull it from the wreckage, and return to the island," he said, glancing around at each of the gems. "And to be honest, I'm still not sure if we're all going to the same place."

"Back up," Alm said, returning the favor with a bump on Carocol's shoulder. "You're going all the way to Duma's resting place? The Tower?"

"Yes," Carocol replied impatiently.

"That sword is a sacred relic of Valentia. Through it flows the lifeblood of Mila, growing our crops and tempering the weather. Do you have any idea what removing that sword would do to the people of both Rigel and Zofia?"

Alm realized fairly quickly that his statement didn't have the desired effect at all, for Carocol began to laugh condescendingly.

"Are you telling me the people of this continent still rely on the gods for handouts? Pitiful! My people have survived for generations by our own hand. Perhaps it's time you and your neighbors did the same!"

And before Carocol had even finished speaking, their blades were locked together, the collision of steel so violent and swift Rose cried out in alarm.

Carocol's good spirits vanished, replaced with a burning hatred for the soft, green eyes staring back at him. In an instant, however, Carocol composed himself and sheathed his sword.

"It is not the way of the Yasha to hate. I will not take your life today, Zofian."

Alm stared back at him, his expression torn between disbelief and anger.

"You insult my country and the goddess, and then call peace as if everything has been resolved?" Alm shook his head, still pointing his sword at the Yasha's chest. "When my neighbors insulted the Yasha, called them godless idlers with no direction, I never believed it. I thought there was something to be said about, as you call it, the middle road. A life without war, a life without silence. But I have no interest in traveling with a coward."

"Enough, both of you!" Rose shouted, stepping in between them. "Alm, put that blade away!"

"Why do you defend him?" Alm asked.

"Because he, like you, is a denizen of this planet, and I made a vow to protect any human I met."

Alm stared at her, then back to Carocol, who had taken a spot on the ground and closed his eyes as if to meditate. Finally, he sheathed his sword and walked back to the edge of the hill. The wind had picked up, the smell of salt assuaging his nerves.

"We are going east to find Bismuth. Alm, you said that's where your friend is. And this...Tower of Duma. Where is it exactly?"

"To the west," Alm answered.

"Look, Alm, Carocol, I won't pretend to understand what it means to be human. I won't pretend to understand these "gods," and why or why they aren't important to you or the other humans. But none of us will accomplish our goals if we aren't united. I don't know my way around this continent, so it's up to you to guide us Alm."

Alm shot one more indignant glare at Carocol before answering.

"I'll do my best, if it means finding Celica."

Rose offered him a toothy smile.

"Thank you. Now, it might help our morale if we came up with some kind of name for ourselves. I mean, Garnet, Pearl and I are already the Crystal Gems...but you're humans."

"Well, you said you were fighting some oppressive rulers," Alm said with a hand to his chin. "The Diamonds, I think you said?"

Rose nodded.

"Since we're allied now, I guess that means I'm against the Diamonds too, which makes us sort of like the Deliverance," he explained.

"So, we're-" Pearl started, before Garnet cut in: "The Crystal Deliverance."

Rose squealed in delight at the name, while Alm and Pearl stared at the ground uncomfortably. Before they could propose a better name, however, Rose had wrapped her arms around the two and pulled them into an uncomfortable hug.

"The Crystal Deliverance! Oh, what a beautiful name. Only on Earth, right? Only on Earth can organics and gems fight side-by-side."

Alm smiled, and couldn't help but feel a rush of affection towards Rose. There was something about traveling with her that beat traveling with a band of hard-nosed mercenaries, but even more so, Alm felt a strange connection to her he couldn't explain.

Before he could expound on these thoughts, however, Carocol spoke up from his perch.

"Let's see just how well we fight as a group."

He cocked his head towards Zofia Harbor.

"An army just emerged from the village, and it looks like they're headed our way."


	7. Chapter 7: An Unwelcome Reunion

Chapter 7: An Unwelcome Reunion:

By the time Alm had joined Carocol on the hill, the swarm of crimson soldiers were already halfway up the hill. There was no doubt in Alm's mind that these were Rigelian soldiers, but try as he might to understand why they would be swarming the Zofian countryside in such numbers, his only instinct was to draw his blade and prepare for conflict.

But before they could even prepare themselves, the Rigelians had surrounded the newly christened "Crystal Deliverance," and the whinnying horses and metallic screeches of swords and lances being drawn made Alm's temple throb. The sea breeze caught the dust their horses had kicked up, so that it blinded and gagged him.

When the dust finally cleared, a mounted noble was looking down on him imperiously, and Alm couldn't believe his eyes.

"Fernand!"

The man shot Alm a pompous glare at the sound of his name. He'd grown considerably in the ten years since Alm had seen him, although there could be no mistaking those pale, snake-like eyes and faded blonde hair.

"You are Alm, correct?" Fernand asked in an airy voice. He studied Alm's compatriots with disdain, settling on Garnet in particular.

"Y-yes? Fernand, don't you recognize me?"

Fernand grunted.

"I have orders from Emperor Rudolf to bring you back to Rigel, where you will await trial."

"Trial? What are you talking about? I haven't violated any laws…"

"It is not in the Emperor's interest for me to cite the law you have broken," Fernand cut in. "You will leave your...er, _friends-" _he said, casting a smirk at Carocol, "behind, and travel with me to the capital."

"You act like you don't even remember me, and now you ask me to turn myself in for a crime I didn't commit? What madness is this?!" Alm shouted angrily. Murmurs broke out among Fernand's soldiers. They'd never met anyone who spoke like this to Fernand, let alone a simple Zofian boy. Fernand narrowed his eyes and cleared his throat, and the army went silent.

"I am not above using force to achieve my ends, boy," Fernand said, raising his left hand and signalling to one of his archers. The archer drew his bow and aimed at Alm's heart. In response, Rose drew her sword. Four more archers emerged and concentrated on her and the others.

"Boy? You're only two years older than I am, Fernand, or are you willing to lie about that too?" Alm spat. Fernand's eyes flashed dangerously.

"How dare you use my name, you filthy little whelp," Fernand seethed, saliva forming in the corner of his mouth.

"I see you haven't forgotten the peasant uprising then," Alm said coolly, ignoring the pang of guilt as the words left his mouth. All traces of Fernand's composure faded.

"I would execute you myself, if I did not have to carry your carcass to the crown prince," he shouted.

"Ah!" Alm shouted back, and he was happy to see Fernand's eyes shifting nervously. "You said you were taking me to the capital. Why does the prince have want of me?"

Fernand fumbled nervously with the reins, for his horse had shifted in alarm at his master's outburst.

"Answer me Fernand!"

"I don't answer to peasants! You, of all people on this continent, should know that," Fernand retorted. "Do you think I could forget about what happened to my parents? To my brother and sister? What those worthless sacks of flesh did to their bodies? You, and your Ram Village neighbors-"

"The brigands who attacked you were from another village!" Alm interrupted, a gust of wind slapping the side of his face. "I tried explaining to you back then, but…"

"But you did nothing! You and your friends watched as my house burned to the ground, and my parents were dragged away to their deaths!"

Rose and Pearl gasped, and even Carocol and Garnet looked on with great interest.

"The sheep were the wolves that night, but instead of putting them back in the barn, your pathetic excuse of a grandfather watched as they tore the village apart."

"Alm, is this true?" Rose asked, her voice heavy with disappointment.

"Yes, but it happened ten years ago, when I was too young to do anything about it," Alm responded evenly, even as guilt gnawed at his heart.

"I wasn't the only one wise enough to escape that cesspool," Fernand said, wearing a savage smile now. "Celica got as far away as she could."

Alm pointed his sword at his former friend's chest, hatred flowing through his veins again.

"Don't speak her name, you dastard," he said in a gravelly voice. "You will not insult my friends, my family, my home anymore. Don't forget, it was once yours too, Fernand.

"If Ram had a soul," Fernand decreed, an evil glint in his eye, "Duma would lean down and spit on it!"

Alm closed his eyes, focusing on the image of his grandfather in his mind to keep himself from plunging his blade in the chest of Fernand's beautiful arabian. For the second time in two days, he and his allies were completely surrounded, and Alm knew that there was no limit to what Fernand could say. For the second time, his journey was doomed.

"Have you nothing to say to that, grandson of Mycen, or have you finally realized just how futile your existence is?"

"If you're so confident you can beat me," Alm said, still with his eyes closed, "why don't you prove it?"

Fernand guffawed.

"I don't need to, boy. It is simply a law of nature. Sheep cannot hope to defeat wolves"

"So far, you've been all bark and no bite. Surely it wasn't your status alone that earned you your rank?"

More whispers broke out amongst the force, and even the archer pointing his bow at Alm lowered it slightly as he nervously glanced at Fernand.

"Prove it," Alm repeated. "If what you say is truly a law of nature, than it can certainly be backed up by evidence."

Fernand considered Alm for a moment like a gardener would eye a patch of weeds. Finally, he dismounted his horse, one of his attendants carrying it out of range and tying it down to a makeshift post. Fernand placed his hand upon the hilt of his sword, and though he was still at a considerable distance, Alm could make out the pure, untarnished silver of the blade. A sword that had never seen combat.

"You have insulted me for the last time. Though I am morally obligated to spare a child, I can make an exception for a serf whelpling like you."

Fernand closed in until their blades met. The tempest picked up, engulfing Alm in the chill of battle as he waited for Fernand to strike first.

Instead, Fernand smiled and took a step back.

"You really are a fool, Alm," he sneered, shouting "execute him!" in the same breath. Alm ducked just in time to avoid the first arrow. He lifted his blade to prepare for the onslaught of projectiles, but suddenly there was an ungodly roar that knocked him to his feet.

"Oh gods, no!" Alm heard the archer scream, followed by the retreating footfalls of hundreds of soldiers pounding the ground around him. Over the sounds of retreat, Alm heard Fernand's angry shriek right behind him. He rolled out of the way of Fernand's blade just in time, pushing himself to his feet once out of range.

He only caught Fernand's expression of utter disgust at something in the sky before a retreating cavalier plowed Alm over. The impact knocked the sword out of his hands, but that wasn't frightened Alm.

A towering, hexapod behemoth dominated Alm's view of the sky, letting loose carpets of amber fire. Taller than the dragons in his childhood fairy tales, more monstrous than the most vile of Terrors, the orange beast roared again. The resulting expulsion of flame split the clouds in two with the heat and glow of a thousand suns, thawing the frigid air.

So taken aback by the monstrosity was Alm that he didn't notice Fernand leaping to the ground for his sword, and getting intercepted by a kick to the chest from Carocol. The tremendous force sent the noble spiraling through the short steppe grass. Fernand pulled himself to his feet with his sword, prepared for a retaliatory strike, but as he did so the behemoth turned to observe him

Realizing he was more than outnumbered, Fernand sheathed his sword and looked for a place to run.

Alm thought of how he could possibly slay this monster, every muscle burning from the impact of the cavalier's horse. A second one nearly did the same, but Alm managed to dive out of the way. Fernand deftly caught the cavalier's foot and yanked him off, claiming the horse for himself.

"If you are wise, boy, return to the dirt and the muck where your kind belongs. You are getting involved in something that goes far beyond your friend Celica or these pitiful creatures you call 'friends.' Keep your nose in the dirt, or perish!"

With his final warning still ringing in Alm's ears, Fernand turned and galloped north. Alm spun around, expecting to see the orange monstrosity bearing down on him, but was surprised to see Rose, Pearl, and Garnet crash to the ground where the beast had once stood instead.

"They can combine together and form a monstrosity like that?" Carocol whispered. Alm had raised his hand, expecting Carocol to help him up, but the latter ignored him. What a strange race-Alm?"

For at that moment Alm had spotted Fernand's horse chained to the makeshift post, whinnying and fighting its bounds with all of its might. He rolled under its bucking legs and put a hand around its face, offering it a couple strands of grass that had gotten stuck in the vents of his breastplate.

"Shh...shhh…" he cooed, stroking the midnight black arabian's face. Finally, its eyes relaxed and it laid its head on Alm's shoulder. Alm kicked as hard as his achy legs could at the horses chain, succeeding in breaking it on the third try.

"Alm?" he heard Rose say as she approached.

"I'm going after Fernand. I need to find out what he meant. I'll meet you in Zofia Harbor!"

"Okay, but be-"

But Alm was already out of earshot, a small dot on the horizon.

"He really is a lot like you, Rose," Pearl said, watching Alm's figure grow smaller and smaller.

Rose smiled, and made sure Garnet wasn't around before responding.

"How dare you."


	8. Chapter 8: Through the Tempest

Chapter 8:

Had the events from the night before not been so otherworldly, Celica would not be walking with the determination she had now. It had been hard to sleep, what with Bismuth's heavy snoring and the woman who called herself Saber staring at her through the night.

Celica closed the gate to the graveyard behind her as quietly as she could, and set off once again in the direction of Duma Tower. The rain had ceased, although an overcast sky remained, and a damp gloom hung over the Zofian countryside

She estimated it was still early in the morning, for the road to the next settlement was completely empty. The path took her through the heart of the formerly lush Zofian countryside, and she was forced to endure the pungent aroma of the rotten apples and oranges littering it. Celica swatted at the air as fruit flies abandoned their meals and orbited her head.

The bulbous trees and fields of crops that flanked the trail grew thinner and more barren. It was as if these lands had never felt Mila's warm touch. The bland spectrum of orange and brown repulsed her.

The people of Novis noticed the change during the preceding Flostym, when crop production flatlined and prices skyrocketed. Despite a wet Avistym and a warm Pegastym, the crops never reached the bounty of previous years, and the annual Novis Harvest Festival had been nothing but a reminder of times when things were bountiful.

Nomah had asked to speak with Celica alone one night after evening prayer in early Pegastym, and though her peers had thrown him looks of indignation, their respect for Celica kept their mouths shut. That was the night Nomah had asked her to undertake the mission, one she could not tell anyone about, even her best friends Mae and Boey.

Even though they pressed her to talk in the weeks that followed, she had kept her promise. She valued her connection to Mila far more than any of her mortal friendships, that much her friends had always known, but it wasn't like her to keep secrets. This change in her mannerisms brought on a change in her relationship with Mae and Boey. As the season came to an end and the journey began to loom in Celica's mind, they began to spend less time with her. She had caught them talking about her on more than one occasion, always blushing and changing the subject quickly.

Celica's mind replayed the events of the night before for perhaps the hundredth time, although this time she focused on the moment before she believed her death was certain. She had seen Boey, Celica, Nomah, and, most significantly, Alm.

Though her memories of Ram were foggy at best, she found it impossible to forget Alm. How passionately he cared for his friends, and his ability to see the good in everyone he met. But it had been more than ten years, and the image had frightened her to her core.

_It had been a moment of weakness_, she continued to reaffirm herself. _You thought you were dying. It's natural that you would think of the people close to you._

But it wasn't this that haunted her; it was the feeling of regret for pushing them away. It was the way of life for those who dedicated themselves to the gods to forsake all relationships beyond the priory. She couldn't allow herself to feel regret for her way of life, and even though her mind constantly wandered to simpler times in Ram Village, building treehouses with Gray, learning new magic with Kliff, or simply frolicking in the meadow with Alm, she could confidently say to everyone around her that her dedication was to Mila, and Mila alone.

The path ascended a small knoll, and it was as Celica came across this first change in elevation in her journey that a familiar voice came from behind her.

"It is dangerous to go alone, master."

Celica winced; this Saber woman was truly unbelievable.

"Saber, I appreciate your help last night, but this pilgrimage must be made alone."

"It is not your decision to make, master. Your hand is marked with the seal of the saber class. It is my sworn duty as a servant to protect you."

Celica sighed, and finally turned to face the woman in blue. Though she was the same height as Celica, something about her made her seem taller. Her features suggested a benevolent disposition, but there was an enigma to her that Celica, admittedly not as skilled with social graces as many women her age, couldn't discern

"I know not what this 'servant' business is, but I assure you it has nothing to do with my journey. Not to sound crass, but I have no interest in the baggage your presence may bring."

"What is this mission, that is so important to you that it be completed by your lonesome? You are a priestess traveling the countryside alone. Surely your client would have provided you with some modicum of protection?"

"A sword," Celica answered simply, and another pang of anxiety tightened her chest. The Golden Dagger, the sword of Mila's descendents, had shattered in the graveyard battle as if it were made of glass.

"A sword," Saber recited. "The best your client can entrust with you is a single sword?"

"Don't insult Father Nomah!" Celica shouted. "You do not know anything about me, about where I come from, and you think that somehow gives you the right to question my motives?"

Saber's expression didn't waver. A farmer pushed a wheelbarrow over the other side of the knoll, her face obscured by an unnaturally large sun hat. Celica lowered her voice.

"Leave me to complete my mission, alone. You are not my servant, and whatever imaginary bounds you think I have on you, I release them."

The farmer walked between the two as if they weren't even there, humming an odd tune to herself. Celica picked up the color of the woman's skin and attire, a deep shade of purplish-black. Even stranger was the fertilizer in her wheelbarrow; the material was jagged and hard like a stone would be. Saber seemed to notice this too. Her gaze followed the farmer as she parked her materials by a field devoid of crops, and began dropping them in the soil randomly.

"It's not that simple, Celica," Saber said after a moment, prying her eyes away from the strange farmer. "Only highly advanced magic can remove command seals from a master."

"I'm sure I can learn it. But until then, I ask you to remain behind."

Celica clutched the hand with the command seal, for it had prickled uncomfortably when she finished speaking.

"You must be careful, Celica. You only have three command seals. Once they're gone, I will no longer be under your control."

The farmer perked her head up in their direction.

"You shouldn't have told me that," Celica said, smiling wryly. "As your master, I command…"

But before she could emit the command, Saber had launched herself at the farmer and plunged that concentration of sword-like energy Celica had seen her wield the night before into the farmer's chest. Celica only saw the sun hat fly into the air, revealing a chunky, purple face and long, patchy white hair, before disappearing in an explosion of dust. Capping off the bizarre events was the sudden appearance of a purple stone and a whip, falling to the Earth in front of Saber.

"What in Mila's name was that for?" Celica shouted, advancing on Saber. In response, Saber picked up the whip and held it so Celica could see. Purple spikes dotted the thing so that it looked like a dragon's tail.

"This was no farmer, but another strange being sent to capture or kill you," she said. A ray of sunlight peeked through the clouds, catching the purple gemstone and illuminating it like a candle. Saber bent down to pick it up.

"Don't touch that!" shouted another familiar, angry voice.

Bismuth was running towards them now, panting heavily and pointing at the gemstone on the ground.

"That's an Amethyst soldier, they're from my world."

"Your world? So you aren't human?" Celica asked as Bismuth joined them.

"Explain this 'world' you're supposedly from," Saber asked. It wasn't a command, although the tone would've been more than enough to motivate Celica to answer. Instead, Bismuth stepped between them and morphed her arm into a hammer.

"First, let's take care of this thing," she said. The instant before Bismuth tried it, Celica realized what she was doing and caught the inside of her arm on its descent.

"What...are...you...doing?" Bismuth said, trying to shake free of Celica's grasp. She was quite strong for such a young human.

"Stopping you from making a terrible mistake!" Celica grunted.

"She tried to capture you," Bismuth said through gritted teeth, finally managing to break free of Celica's grasp. "If I don't shatter it, she's going to regenerate and attack again. Now stand back."

Just then, there was a tempest greater than the mightiest tropical storm, and years of living on a blustery coast weren't enough for Celica to hold her ground. Both she and Bismuth were launched into the air, the gem and the whip flying into the field until they were lost in the miles of barren soil. Celica's heart pounded as the wheelbarrow crashed down a few inches from her head, its contents spilling onto the path next to her.

"My master's will is my own," Saber boomed with a voice like a queen. "But moreso, it is against the code of a knight to kill those who cannot defend themselves."

Bismuth, who had somehow managed to stay on her feet, clutched her head as if prone to explode. Celica observed this as she pushed herself up onto her feet. Only a few hours before, they had competed to see who could kill the most revenants; this Bismuth was almost like an entirely different person, vengeful and angry.

Celica would have little time to ponder this though, for just then there was an eerie humming sound, and some of the thin rocks that had spilled out of the wheelbarrow levitated in the air on their accord.

"Look out!" she managed to shout before one crashed into the earth at her feet. Another collided with the side of her face, and she tasted blood.

"Pyrite! That Amethyst meant business. Our only hope is to hit 'em before they h-argh!"

A Pyrite stuck in Bismuth's arm. She roared and ripped the rock, which resembled a bat with its thin, sharp wings and small, ugly face, out by the legs, hurling it and intercepting another incoming pyrite. Saber dodged and sliced at the hailstorm of pyrite as if she were swatting flies, clouds of earthy debris bursting all around her.

The pyrite who missed pulled their heads out of the ground, emitting battle cries that reminded Celica of screech owls.

"Ow!" she screamed as one of them bit her exposed ankle. She kicked with all her might, and the pyrite flew into the air, not even having the time to scream as another incoming pyrite collided and simultaneously burst with her.

Another pyrite smacked her in the side of the face, making her eyes water, and then another pierced her gloved hand. Upon hearing her master's scream of agony, Saber threw caution to the wind and shielded her, now warding off two squadrons of dive-bombing pyrite.

It was quite the sight, Saber cutting down and weaving between the hailstorm of pyrite with her curious sword. Even Bismuth, and the ten or so pyrite climbing all over her body, turned to watch. A couple bounced off of Saber's armor, but once the onslaught had ceased, Saber's skin was completely untouched. She wasn't even panting or sweating from the effort, and the two pyrite that had landed at her feet screamed and ran into the field. The pyrite swarming Bismuth gave up their efforts as well, hiding among the tall grass.

Who was this woman, Celica thought to herself as Saber helped her to her feet, who could swing a sword as if it were a quill?

"Where did you learn to fight?" Bismuth said in awe, nursing a bite on her chin with hand.

But Saber was focused on a quiet whimpering sound coming from behind the overturned wheelbarrow. Bismuth launched the contraption into the field of empty soil, where it shattered on impact and caused the pyrite hiding there to squeak and retreat further, to reveal a single pyrite curled up behind its wings like a trembling child.

Without a trace of mercy, Bismuth grabbed it by the tip of the wings and dangled it in front of her.

"Who ordered you to attack her?"

The thing squeaked and retreated its face even further into its wings. Bismuth shook it like a salt shaker, and it proceeded to retch into her hand.

"Who gave you the order?" she repeated in a deadly tone.

"Nobody!" it screeched in a high-pitched voice. "My Amethyst received orders from Jasper to head north so we could evacuate the planet! She wanted to impress Jasper though, so she disguised herself as a farmer so she could fool and capture humans."

"Evacuating? Why is Homeworld evacuating Earth?"

The pyrite whimpered.

"Why-is-Homeworld-evacuating-Earth?" she repeated, shaking its tiny body with every word.

"That's enough, Bismuth, allow me to speak to it," said Celica.

"Fine," Bismuth said, launching it at Celica, who caught it in her outstretched hands. The pyrite stumbled around dizzily for a second before falling on its rear end, looking up at Celica with a beady expression.

"Are there more of you out there?" she asked in a gentle voice.

"No, we're the last ones, I think. Jasper made it pretty clear she wanted everyone to get back to the ship."

"Who is Jasper?"

"I can answer that," Bismuth said in a low voice. "She's a captain from the world I'm from, in charge of the colonization of Earth. She's the one who shattered my best friend."

The word "shatter" made Celica shiver. Saber's eyes flickered tragically as well.

"It wasn't that long ago. I thought maybe she'd still be in the area…" she said, her voice trailing off as if something had been lifted off her shoulders. With last malevolent look at the Pyrite in Celica's hands, she walked over to the wrecked wheelbarrow, and began piecing the scattered parts together.

"You mentioned something about evacuating. Why are you leaving Earth?"

The pyrite gulped, and looked into the sky.

"Yellow Diamond is coming."

"Yellow Diamond?"

Bismuth looked up from the wheelbarrow, letting a plank of wood fall from her hand. The Pyrite nodded.

"She's one of Homeworld's leaders. The Diamond Authority. There used to be four, but the rumor is, Pink was…"

The Pyrite gulped again.

"Look, I've already said too much. If I say any more, I'll get shattered. Please, just spare us and we won't mess with you again, we swear!"

"Very well, but if I catch wind of you messing with other denizens of my country, I won't be so merciful," she said in her lowest, most threatening voice. Instead, the pyrite smiled brightly, hugged Celica's index finger, and jumped to the ground in search of its friends.

Once the dark mass of pyrite had gathered and ventured north, Celica and Saber wandered over to Bismuth. The wheelbarrow she had thrown was back in working shape, but Bismuth was anything but proud.

"Just forget about it," she muttered. Celica felt a wave of remorse.

"Do you want me to say a prayer?"

Bismuth shook her head.

"I don't know what a prayer is, but I don't think Tiger Eye would want it."

"Okay. I do hope our paths cross again, Bismuth."

Bismuth was on her feet in an instant.

"What do you mean? You're not actually gonna go on alone, are you?"

"Master…" Saber began, but Celica cut her off.

"I must speak with Mila alone," she explained. "That is the duty of a priestess. I don't expect you to understand."

"You're right, I don't understand," Bismuth said, pushing the wheelbarrow away in frustration. "I don't understand anything about this world. Everything here is so...fleeting. Wars, love, life. But I want to know more. I want to know why I'm in the fight to save this world. I've lost so many friends defending a planet I could never understand.

"Rose, my leader, she always tells me the Earth is so beautiful, but I just don't get it. All I've felt is pain. Celica, you have to show me why I put the crust on my back, the crust of my friends and family, on the line every day for your planet. If you die...well, I guess I won't get any closer to understanding, will I?"

Celica couldn't think of a response to this, for even she didn't know what compelled this "Rose" to turn against her vastly superior homeworld for the sake of a war-torn continent like Valentia. And yet, she knew no matter what she said, Bismuth was not going to stay behind.

Behind her, Saber's hair waved, her expression as stoic as ever.

"And I guess I can't convince you to stay behind either?"

Saber smiled and shook her head.

It would be both a blessing and a curse, having allies with their own baggage, and eventually she would need to get more information from her unusual new friends. But nevertheless, Celica nodded, and the party continued through the deathly countryside and towards Rigel, side by side.


	9. Chapter 9: Skirmish in the Dreaded Wood

The border between Zofia and Rigel could not have been more apparent to Alm. Zofia, despite the oncoming Wyrmstym and the mysterious crop shortages, grew behind Alm in all of her natural glory, and the smells of dew and freshly cut grass had quelled the remaining vigor from the earlier battle.

Now, he had crossed the invisible line to a completely different land, and the feeling of peace had succumbed to an all-encompassing anxiety. Blades, axes, arrows, and vehicles of destruction lay pitched in the crust of an ancient battlefield, and the air reeked of dried blood, smoke, and death. Whatever vegetation remained was jaundiced and brittle, turning to dust as Alm's steed stepped over it, and withered corn stalks lined the trail like corpses.

The feeling of dread, the fear that at any moment, something would launch itself in the path and strike, was shared by Fernand's steed, upon which he now rode. Despite not having a name, Alm had learned a great deal about the arabian in their short time together. One could learn so much about a horse simply from how they rode, and even at full speed, Fernand's arabian was smooth and even. Well-trained as it was, however, it was also quite skittish at the slightest sounds. Even the slightest snap of a twig caused it to buck and whinny, and it would take Alm two minutes at the slightest to calm the creature down.

His behavior suggested a history of abuse, although this didn't surprise Alm. Mycen had taught him one's character could be judged from the way they treated the peasantry. It wouldn't have been far-fetched to suggest Fernand had abused his horse.

When the path reached the edge of a brown wood, Alm finally brought the arabian to a halt. Night would be coming soon, but the prospect of navigating an eerie forest at night would not stop him from pursuing Fernand.

Fernand's prized horse was panting slightly now, but continued forward at the same pace as before. The canopy was bony and jagged, thousands of gnarled fingers reaching out for him. was not as suffocating as Alm had initially thought, and the trail remained as lighted as it had been before. Eventually, the robin's egg blue of daylight gave way to the soft pink of dusk, odd shadows leering at him from the thin shade of the decaying trees.

They rounded a corner, and Alm had to squint to confirm what it was that he was seeing. Two horses, arabians not quite as lean as Fernand's, stood by their lonesome in the path, timidly eating whatever grass they could scavenge from the forest floor.

Alm studied the horses for a moment,wondering who in their right mind would abandon two perfectly good horses. The sight made him uneasy, and he snapped the reins without a sidelong glance at them. They had moved no further than a few feet up the trail, however when there was a cacophony of snapping branches. Two archers deftly landed on the backs of the horses. One was heavily bearded, but even from a distance Alm could tell he was a good head shorter than him, while the other was his height and likely around his age.

Before Alm could even draw his sword, one of their arrows struck his shoulder, the resulting yowl of pain echoing throughout the vacant wood.

They set off at full speed again, Alm knowing full well the advantages archers had in wooden places. The archers ducked into the woods, and flanked Alm from both sides. Alm grunted as one of their arrows was intercepted by a low hanging branch, the resulting explosion of wooden shrapnel catching him in the cheek.

There was a loud series of thumps to his right, and the unmistakable unsheathing of a sword. In a mere second, the bearded assailant was on him, katana drawn. Alm met his katana a couple of times in midair with his grandfather's sword, catching the hilt of the man's blade with his own and launching the sword into the air.

The bearded assailant cursed and retreated back into the woods, reaching for his bow. Another arrow, shot by the younger assailant, whistled in Alm's ear. Alm followed the bearded assailant and kicked the bow out of his hands. The assailant was resourceful, however, and using one of his arrows as a makeshift knife, slashed at Alm's head.

Both their horses bounded over a thick branch in the trail, and Alm took the chance to jump on the bearded assailant's horse and put him in a headlock.

"Geroffame," the man choked out, sputtering and wheezing as Alm tightened his grip. Alm reached for his sword, but pulled back just in time as another arrow bounced off his armor. The younger assailant had emerged on the main path, stringing another arrow as the bearded assailant clawed at Alm's face.

"Agh!" Alm cried out, putting a hand over his left eye where the bearded assailant had just poked him. The man put a hand around Alm's throat, and now it was his turn to cough as his windpipe was wrenched by the man's hand.

Just as Alm's vision began to swim, however, there was a sick crunching sound as an arrow caught the man between the eyes. The man's hand went limp, and Alm pushed the man's body off the side of his horse, tumbling through the dirt and crashing unceremoniously into a fallen tree trunk.

The younger assailant was ghostly pale, and Alm took the chance to remount Fernand's arabian and bear back onto the main path. Alm threw a stiff kick at the stunned assailant's midriff as he reached for his katana, more than enough to knock the young man off his horse.

Just as a sense of relief came over Alm, just when he'd thought he escaped, there was a flash of gold and a sword pierced the arabian's neck. With a final whinny of anguish it collapsed to the ground, landing heavily on Alm's legs. Alm's sword flew through the stale air, landing a good 25 feet from his grasp.

Alm pushed the slain arabian off of him, his joints far too sore to allow him to stand. He considered Fernand's dead horse melancholically, but the sight of the young archer stalking towards him motivated him to gather his sword.

The next few seconds passed slowly, Alm crawling towards his sword while the archer continued to bear down on him. He could hear the young man's labored breathing getting closer, but Alm's entire body ached, and he couldn't force himself to crawl faster.

Just as he made a final, desperate lunge for his sword, however, a lone boot pressed itself upon the blade's hilt.

"You have failed for the last time, mongrel," said a cold, emotionless voice. "Perish with the thought that you lived as you now will die: utterly meaninglessly."

A wormhole of golden light instantiated above Alm, swirling and effervescing like a vat of honey. From it emerged a single steel blade, smooth and unblemished, was now pointed at Alm's forehead.

The final lunge had weakened Alm's muscles greatly, and he could tell pulling his grandfather's sword out from the under man's boot would be an improbable task. He would die in a foreign land, a wayward peasant boy in the middle of an unnamed forest. Alm closed his eyes, admitting to himself that Mycen had been right, that he had acted on emotion and would now pay the full price for it.

There was the sound of something rushing through the air, followed by a swift choking noise, and the sound of something heavy crashing to the Earth beside him. Alm opened his eyes, bile rushing to his throat as the young archer's vacant eyes stared back. A sword was stuck through his forehead like a feast pig.

"And these mongrels were your best soldiers?" the man said to someone to his left, and Alm recognized Fernand. Contrary to earlier that morning, Fernand's head was bowed, fear reflected in his hollow eyes.

"Y-yes, my king," he said in a weak voice. It was strange that Alm would refer to the man as King: he looked far too young to be a ruler. Though his eyes were cold and his features chiseled and sharp, there was a boyish softness to his skin. There was no way this "King" was any older than him.

"It's no wonder they couldn't capture the boy. These urchins couldn't hunt a newborn deer."

Fernand grimaced. The other man smiled mildly, using his foot to roll Alm onto his back.

"Regardless, we have the boy in our possession now. What to do with him?"

"M-my king? Shouldn't we just do it now? Save the prince the trouble?"

Alm's chest felt hollow, but he stared resolutely up at the pair, egging them on to finish the job. The man met his gaze, a hunger lurking beneath them, as if he wanted nothing more than to tear Alm apart.

After a few moments, however, he merely smiled and grunted.

"Why take the pleasure away from the prince? He's been so longing to stick a blade through this boy's heart..."

Before Alm could process what the man said, four golden wormholes instantiated in the air above him, and four snakelike chains slithered out of them. Alm could do nothing as they bound his extremities and lifted him into the air in a painful crucifix position.

"Let us hurry, the daylight is limited," the man said lazily. Fernand took one final, fleeting look at his slain horse and Alm, before leading the way down the forest trail. With the last of his strength, Alm pulled as hard as he could on the chain coiled around his right wrist, but it wouldn't budge. All he could do was stare venomously at the back of the man's head, as he floated slowly behind him.

Berkut supposed it wasn't the worst fortress to hole up in for the night. It was drafty, sure, and try as hard as the squires could to keep the foyer clean, sand would venture inside as easily as the air itself. The surrounding vegetation was short and scraggly like a dog's back, a far cry from the lush bushes of lavender and lilacs that highlighted Rigel Castle.

But these things were to be expected for an old desert fort. Berkut had heard the stories of this particular fort from the Emperor, how it served as the site of a major battle between his regiment of the Imperial forces and the core of the Deliverance. It had been the bloodiest battle of the campaign, and one that would ultimately motivate the Emperor to settle for a truce with the rebels.

Since then, the fort had been left to the elements, constant sandstorms tearing at the outer walls and patches of desert fungi eating away the interior ravenously. And yet, the inner sanctum and (of all things for a nameless fort to have) ballroom remained beautifully intact. Crimson banners depicting the Rigelian coat of arms, the crowned lion, swayed proudly in the evening drafts, and complemented the posh carpeting depicting Valentia that stretched from the ballroom all the way to the entryway. The instruments in the band pit, though dusty from seasons of solitude, remained perfectly intact.

Berkut was observing a particularly curious brass instrument, an odd combination of a trumpet with the woodwind qualities of a clarinet, when an archer on the roof announced the arrival of Rinea, his wife. Though it had been only a mere season since their wedding, the events of the past few weeks had already dulled his memories of the ceremony. It had been the day after the wedding that Berkut's plan had been set in motion, and the servant known as Gilgamesh, the King of Heroes, had been summoned to assist him.

A few days later, the Emperor drank the poisoned mead Gilgamesh had prepared for him, and had been comatose ever since. Gilgamesh had been calling him a dead man in the meantime, but Berkut feared Rudolf's resolve was greater than even the King of Heroes could anticipate. He sensed the man was still clinging to life, if only slightly.

Berkut moved to the center of the ballroom and clapped his hands urgently, and six minstrels emerged from their quarters on the second level and ran into the band pit, instruments in hand. They had been instructed to play _The Sea Shrine's Requiem _as the princess entered the ballroom, and though one of them coughed quite loudly as a cloud of dust sprang from his instrument, their performance was adequate enough.

"Berkut, how I've missed you!" Rinea said, wrapping her slender arms around her husband's torso. Her soft skin and lavender-blue hair reflected luminously in Berkut's narrow eyes, as he planted a kiss on her cheek.

"Rinea, you're as beautiful as the day I met you," Berkut said warmly, running a hand along her bony shoulder. "I've prepared the ballroom for a special dance, care to join?"

"Yes, but if I may...I would discuss my concerns with the Hero King we summoned."

Berkut raised an eyebrow doubtfully, but knew better than to protest after having not seen his wife for over a month.

"Very well."

Rinea removed her traveling gloves, revealing Gilgamesh's command seals on her right hand. They seemed oddly distorted, as if rainwater had washed some of the image away.

"Every day, I feel my connection with Gilgamesh slipping. Has he shown any symptoms of magical withdrawal?"

Berkut shook his head, but looked nonplussed at the fading command seals.

"I'm more concerned about you. You aren't affected at all, are you?" Berkut asked. Rinea smiled; though she had many reservations towards Berkut's machinations, it was his care for her that ultimately assuaged her doubts. It was his capability for love that had won her heart, as well as her support.

"Fine, but frightened," she said earnestly, resting her head on Berkut's shoulder. "From the moment we brought him into this world, there was something in his eyes that I didn't like."

"He is...difficult, but he ultimately answers to us," Berkut cooed. "Once we have what we want, he will vanish from this world and our memories, and we will be distracted with the task of ruling an entire continent. I have never doubted your magical capabilities, why is it that you doubt yourself?"

Rinea smiled, a flicker of doubt still shimmering in her soft eyes.

"As you have never doubted my skills, I have never doubted your heart, Berkut."

Berkut's next question would dilute some of that faith.

"Does my father still live?" Berkut asked, a disturbing lack of compassion in his voice. Rinea shuddered. She had been dreading the question almost as much as the prospect of seeing Gilgamesh again.

"At night, he moans and tosses in his bed. It is a horrible melody...but yes, he lives."

Berkut studied his wife's expression, pulling her face towards him so their eyes met.

"You understand, of course, that my father is an obstacle to our ambitions? He does not possess the same vision that I do, does not share the same desire for peace. Sometimes, my beautiful little flower, there must be pain and suffering before there can be peace."

Rinea did understand, but wouldn't ask the question that had been burning her since the plan was set in motion. It was senseless to poison the Emperor, so that he died slowly and painfully; why hadn't her husband just taken a sword to his chest and done the deed quickly? That way, there wouldn't be a need for her to watch him decay before her eyes.

There had been times where his trembling had ebbed, but Rinea could not bring herself to pour more poison down his throat. The Emporer's eyes, bloodshot and distant, would meet hers as she prepared to pour some of the tonic down her throat, freezing her in place and convincing her to put the goblet down.

When she'd agreed to marry Berkut, she hadn't done so just for him, but so she could join the family. Her father had died in a blizzard when she was only a lass, and the Emperor had offered a place in the castle even before they had said their vows. In many ways, he was the father she'd never had. It didn't seem right that he had to suffer, but it was Gilgamesh's will.

"I don't wish to talk about this anymore," Rinea whispered. Though Berkut was disappointed to hear the Emperor still lived, he did not pursue the topic anymore.

"Then we shall dance, and let our movements distract us from current affairs," he said, taking her arm and leading her back into the center of the ballroom. He snapped his fingers at the pit band, and the low notes of _Sea Shrine's Requiem _gave way to the forte melody of _Duma's Pride. _

The young lovers swayed around the small, dusty ballroom, the cool air and the softly glowing red tapestries inducing a sleepy tenderness in their hearts. As Berkut had intended, the music relaxed the tension in Rinea's expression, and they were lost in their movements. Lost in the tides of their own thoughts, the world they would create, a world of love, opulence, and promise, clear in their minds.

The moment of bliss ended all too soon.

A young soldier barged into the ballroom breathlessly. Berkut recognized him as one of Fernand's soldiers, a foolish boy who had been caught more than once stealing food from the larder of whatever fort they would be staying in.

"You dare interrupt us in our moment of reunion?" Berkut shouted angrily, feeling a savage pleasure as the young knight tucked his head like a turtle retreating into its shell. "OUT!"

"S-sir, I...bring news…"

"Then I will hear it later, oaf, and if you so much as interrupt my long awaited moment of rapture again…"

Rinea put a calming hand on his chest, silencing him long enough for the soldier to finish his sentence.

"The Hero King and Lord Fernand return from the front, with the, erm, package you requested," he squeaked, before running out of the ballroom as quickly as possible.

"That cannot be," Berkut said, more to himself than to Rinea. "The report I heard claimed that Alm had evaded capture. And I did not order Gilgamesh to accompany him."

Berkut's businesslike demeanor had returned, much to Rinea's dismay.

"Did you order Gilgamesh to accompany Fernand?"

"Of course not my lord," she answered earnestly, pulling her hand away.

Berkut would not press her any farther, but nevertheless wondered why their servant would have left his presence without orders.

"I suppose we shall have to meet them," he said, his features darkening. At these words, the dance number ended with a swift burst of uncouth notes, the sweaty, puffy-faced minstrels eagerly dropping their instruments and exhaling the dust out of their lungs.

Berkut prepared himself to give his pathetic entertainers another tongue-lashing, but Rinea had giggled at the whole affair. The minstrels were lucky Rinea had a lighter heart than he did.

In the entryway, which more closely resembled a royal antechamber with tapestries of similar quality to the ballroom and lion torches that held the flame in their mouths, they met Fernand, Gilgamesh, and, to Berkut's savage pleasure, the tightly chained Alm levitating between them.

"The boy, as requested," said Gilgamesh, bowing his head slightly. The boy shot him an indignant look, but remained silent.

"You've done well, my king. Please release him, Fernand can take him to the dungeons."

"Very well," Gilgamesh answered, and the chains slithered back into the "gates," as Gilgamesh referred to them, the boy crashing to the floor roughly. Fernand pulled him roughly to his feet, and dragged him back through the ballroom and out of sight.

"We are ever so close now, master, to realizing your dream."

It was Rinea who spoke first, cutting off Berkut's deference.

"I do not recall ordering you to leave my husband's side, hero king."

Gilgamesh's eyes flickered at this outward display of audacity, and he adopted a superficial air of politeness towards her.

"My apologies, mistress, although I believe the fruit of my labor speaks for itself."

"But even so," Rinea continued, ignoring the castigating look on Berkut's face, "you left my husband's side. What if terrors or those otherworldly creatures attacked the fort? As a servant, your duty is to my husband."

"My apologies, mistress" Gilgamesh repeated, though his voice had lost the air of politeness. "I must say, you have quite some nerve, speaking to a hero king that way."

"As long as these command seals remain in my blood, your will is that of my husband or I. Do not forget that, servant."

It was a taciturn voice Berkut had never heard his wife adopt, and as she retreated to their bedchamber, Berkut couldn't help but stare after her like a firefly at twilight.

"Your wife is a powerful master, in terms of mana and willpower, but she would do better to trust my judgment. You, at the very least, trust me, don't you Berkut?"

"My loyalty has never wavered," he said, bowing his head so as to avoid his piercing stare.

"I must say, now that I've had time to sit on it, this place reminds me a great deal of the land I come from," said Gilgamesh, stepping into the ballroom and observing the faded opulence with a vague expression.

"The desert surrounding us? The elegance?"

"No," Gilgamesh replied. "Because it is a prison."


	10. Chapter 10: The Mindful Mire

"So where do we go when we die?"

Fa'aituau concentrated harder on the rabbit he was skinning, hoping Carocol would leave it at that. It had been two days since they came across the dead ferret, and the topic of death still occupied him. The first day, the subject had made Carocol withdrawn, and even the prospect of a trip to the shooting range couldn't bring him out of that funk.

The next day, Carocol discussed it with greater vigor, asking so many questions that Fa'aituau was grateful when it was time for him to go to swordsmanship training. That night Carocol's instructor Naito had accompanied the boy home, expressing his concerns with the lad's obsession with the afterlife. His questions had caused quite a stir among his peers.

"Surely you of all people haven't fed him any strange beliefs?"

Fa'aituau assured him he hadn't; that they had merely come across a dead animal in the road the day before. As soon as Naito left, Carocol turned to his father and asked:

"Will Naito die too?"

Now it was the third day, a vacation day from training, and Carocol had bothered him all day with macabre questions no boy should ever ask.

"Where do we go when we die, father?" Carocol repeated, loudly enough that Fa'aituau knew it futile to ignore.

"They say in the land of Duma to the North," he began in a listless voice, "that one's place in the afterlife is determined by their fortitude in life."

"Really? That's what happens?" Carocol responded, as if he had discovered gold.

"No, we have been over this before, young one. We do not follow the mother or the father."

"Then what does happen?"

Fa'aituau finally met his son's gaze, but even his most stern expression could not deter him.

"Do we become something greater?"

"That is a foolish, blasphemous thought," said Fa'aituau coolly, making Carocol flinch. "If there is one thing more dangerous than faith in a God, it is having faith in oneself. Having peace with oneself leads to arrogance. Arrogance leads to feelings of superiority. Feelings of superiority cause war."

"I'm...sorry father."

"Accepted. Now fetch the potatoes like I asked earlier."

Thankfully, he followed orders. No sooner had he come back over the threshold, however, did he begin asking questions again.

"Father…"

"No more talk of death. Cut those carrots properly this time, if you will…"

"I saw something in the sky the other night."

Fa'aituau paused, unsure of why the discussion of death had suddenly turned to the sky. He was willing to entertain the subject if it meant ending the discussion of death.

"Yes?"

"A red light, brighter than the sun."

"Were you dreaming?"

Carocol's body shifted as he shook his head, and a potato fell from under his left arm with a loud _thump. _

"Perhaps you were looking into the sun too long. Must I remind you not to do that?"

"I swear I wasn't," Carocol chided. "I saw the light out of the corner of my eye. I looked up and it got brighter. I was so frightened, but I knew that if I told you then, well…"

Fa'aituau put a hand on his son's shoulder.

"You do not have to be frightened to admit things that you saw. I'm sure there was some explanation for it."

"Do you think it has something to do with…"

"Let me guess," Fa'aituau cut in. "Death?"

Carocol nodded.

"Again, I do not know what death is...but I assure you that what you saw didn't mean anything."

The boy still looked perturbed.

"If what you saw...killed you, you would not be bothering me about the subject right now, would you?"

To Fa'aituau's relief, color flooded Carocol's face once again, his eyes warm with relief.

"Exactly, now let us eat dinner. Your training resumes tomorrow, and I wish to see you fit."

Carocol lie in the springy bed of the Inn he and the Crystal Gems had decided upon, thinking about that discussion with his father. He had never brought the topic of death up to him again, owing perhaps to the attitude one gets in their adolescence, that somehow they are above death.

And yet, less than a week ago, he had been slain like a lame horse. The woman in the bunk above him, Rose, had claimed to bring him back to life, yet he wasn't so sure that was the case. It was strange to think that he could be both dead and alive at the same time.

In fact, it was impossible. Perhaps he was dead, and this was the afterlife. He'd never known somebody in life who could turn another's follicles a different color, after all. If this was the afterlife, it was stranger than anything his father could've told him.

But what about the peasant boy, Alm? He was clearly a son of Mila, and yet there was a powerful flame that burned in his eyes when he talked of that girl, Celica.

A dark thought crossed his mind, and for a moment it made him feel bad for the boy.

_Perhaps he is dead, and does not know it._

It was plausible. Perhaps the girl had been with him when he was alive, his mind using her image as a means of self-protection against the inevitable.

Carocol tortured himself with these strange musings until they nauseated him. A cool breeze blew through the open window and settled on his skin, but he was not compelled to shiver. This both frustrated and intrigued Carocol, who had dealt with enough frustration as it were that day.

The women he had chosen to travel with had clearly chosen the path of war, something he wanted nothing to do with. Carocol only fought when he needed to, or when it was expected of him. These "Crystal Gems," however, lived for fighting, as evident by the carvings in Pearls spear, representing every gem she had "poofed."

It was Rose alone that he was indebted to, so why make him travel with others who would no doubt try to lead him astray from the path he'd grown up following?

The bunk creaked as Rose turned over again. Carocol chanced a quick glance at the woman who claimed to have preserved his life. She was observing the window longingly.

Earlier that day, she had insisted they travel north to find Alm, and it had taken Pearl, Garnet, and even Carocol to convince her that he would be fine and that they needed to contract a sailor if they were to travel across the sea the next day. She relented, but as the trio attempted to negotiate a fair sailing price (a hard thing to do with no gold or silver), Rose would continue to glance towards the entrance to the harbor, waiting for a flash of green hair and a familiar smile.

In the end, they'd met a gullible old sea dog with a single yellow tooth who would ferry them across in exchange for Pearl's spear.

"It's alright," Pearl explained at the Inn later. "My gem allows me to generate any number of spears."

Carocol had bitten into a biscuit as she said it, making Pearl retch. He still wasn't hungry, but instinct commanded him to put _something _in his stomach.

"How do you do that?" she asked, her face a lime-green.

"What, this?"

Carocol took an even more ravenous bite, Garnet and Rose chuckling as Pearl ran out of the place with her hands over her mouth.

Perhaps that was the answer; in some ways, they were fun to be around. There had never been much time for horseplay in Carocol's youth, with most of his time dedicated to studies or swordplay. With the Crystal Gems, horseplay was mandatory.

But every time Carocol caught himself laughing at Rose's butcherings of the human language, Garnet's deadpan humor, or Pearl's reactions to food consumption, he had to remind himself that eventually their paths would split. They would meet their friend Bismuth and continue their war. Alm, wherever he was, would either reunite with his long-lost friend or confront his fate.

That would leave him to venture onto Duma Tower, alone as he preferred it. The thought had once comforted him, but now, watching Rose gaze out the window like a mother hen, he knew he would miss them.

As Carocol rolled over and sleep finally overtook him, he thought of the one person he'd never asked his father about. The question had always been on his lips, but once he'd finally figured out the truth about death, the answer was apparent.

Yes, his mother could die.

Rigel had regretfully arrived, and much like it was on the Ram side of the sea, there was an invisible line of life and decay that contrasted the two nations. An endless expanse of marshland stretched out before Celica and her companions, only broken by the gnarled branches of dead trees, reaching for the sky like corpses.

Up until then, Celica had enjoyed the freedom that came with the outdoors. Even without Mila's guidance, the forests of Zofia had been relatively lush, although the lack of birdsong was quite unsettling.

Bismuth stepped beside Celica to get a better look at Duma's domain, her mouth slightly ajar at the contrast between Rigel and Zofia.

"This is…" she began, lost for words for the first time that day. Throughout the journey to the border, Bismuth had commented on everything she saw, comparing it to her homeworld or referencing something a woman named "Rose" had told her.

Saber was the complete opposite, ignoring the scenery and staring at Celica the entire time. But now, even she could not contain her pity reflected in her eyes. A pity she and Celica shared for the men and women who had to live in the hell that was Rigel.

"Master, I believe we should stop and rest here for the night, before we trek into enemy territory."

"What gave you the idea this was enemy territory?" Bismuth responded.

"Servants who are brought into the world are given knowledge of the time period and the world's politics," Saber answered. "I am more than aware of the enmity between Rigel and Zofia."

Celica considered this for a moment. Perhaps it was true, that she was better off with partners if she were to journey through the heart of Rigel. She imagined herself at this point by herself, and the thought admittedly gave her goosebumps.

"I agree, Saber, let's take a rest- Bismuth!"

Before Celica or Saber could stop her, Bismuth had charged into the marsh. They watched in horror as the mud swallowed her legs, then her body, until only her head poked out of the ground.

"Uh, I may have gotten a little...in over my head," she muttered. It felt good to laugh. Even Saber smiled.

"How're we going to get you out?" Celica asked, her boots sinking further into the mud with every step. "I'm sure a good fire spell…what is it?"

Something in the muddy water had caught the marooned gem's eye, and for a moment she looked on the verge of tears.

"It's Tiger Eye…"

"What, but that's impossible…"

But the person reflected in the water's surface made Celica question the definition of the word "impossible." There was only one person in her memory that had green eyes and hair like that. It was someone she hadn't seen in years...and yet there Alm was, staring back up at her.

He looked just as she had imagined he would. The same boyish smile, hair and eyes, but he was older now, his jawline reflecting that. Celica instinctively looked behind her, as if he might be standing there waiting, but he was not.

"You see her too, right?" Bismuth asked. "See that mark on her eye, that was my fault actually…"

"I see Alm," Celica stated, looking down at the image of his friend again.

"Who's...Alm?" Bismuth responded in a deflated voice.

"Someone I used to know."

"I suppose I'll have to stabilize both of you then," Saber called out in good humor, wading her way over to them. It wasn't until she stood next to Celica that she saw the look on her master's face.

"Master, is something the matter?"

Celica closed her eyes in acknowledgement of Saber's question.

"I've seen something that troubled me is all. We should keep moving…"

Saber peered into the murky water, and for a split second Celica detected a flicker of revulsion in her face. Celica blinked, and Saber was wearing her typical, inscrutable expression again.

"What...happened between you two?" Bismuth asked gently. Celica let her gaze rest on Saber for a couple more moments, before turning and answering Bismuth's question.

"We grew up in the same town, a farming village called Ram on the other side of the sea," Celica said, a sensation of melancholy coming over her. "Those were happier times. Alm, the children of the village and I went on adventures nearly every day. Typical kid stuff. Getting into trouble, picking fights over some childish dispute… Alm was always different from the other boys in the group. He was stronger and faster, sure, but more than that, it was his heart that set him apart. To him, we were his family.

"He and I bonded over the fact that we had never known our parents. A man named Mycen, a former general of Zofia, raised both of us like his own. Deep down, I knew I would never meet my real parents, but life was good."

Bismuth and Saber were both listening now, so Celica inhaled through her nose and continued.

"One day, we were all playing out in the meadow, when a party of brigands raided the town. One of them, a man whose name I've lost to time, made to kidnap me. Had Mycen and the village militia not stepped in, I wouldn't be here standing next to you today."

"Alm wasn't...killed in that attack, was he?" Bismuth asked quietly.

"No. Thankfully, none of our group was killed, although one of them lost both of his parents in the raid on the village. However, I was forced to leave."

There was a sudden intake of breath.

"That's despicable," Saber said, her eyes flashing angrily. "A child has no control over the will of her fellow subjects. You had nothing to do with them being there."

"According to Mycen," Celica said, meeting Alm's eyes again, "they _were _after me."

"What would a random pack of bandits want with you?"

"Mycen told me everything on our journey to the Novis Priory. They likely weren't bandits at all, but mercenaries, hired to capture a girl who apparently was in possession of a certain marking."

"Wait…" Saber interjected, putting a hand to her chin. "You mean to say you've had those command seals since you were a child?"

"No," Celica said, although the thought had crossed her mind. "It was a different mark, one that only appeared when Alm and I were in close proximity to one another. I haven't seen this mark since I left Ram. Alm was devastated when he found out I had to leave. Mycen never explained why either."

There was a prolonged moment of silence, until Bismuth leaned what little of her head remained back and whistled.

"I thought being separated from my cut was bad. That's rough, kid."

"And it doesn't explain why I'm seeing him right now, in the water…"

"We should go find him."

Celica shot her a mystified look.

"I don't even know where he is, or if he's alive or not."

"You said he was across the sea, right?"

"Yes, but…"

"It's only a day's trip across the sea from here! And that's if you're swimming (although, I did have Tiger's Eye to help me)."

"Well, yes, but…"

"I know you're on a pilgrimage right now...but you didn't say when it had to get done. Saber, back me up on this…"

Saber, however, was preoccupied once more by something in the water.

"If you haven't noticed, Bismuth, Zofia continues to wilt by the day," Celica said, her arms trembling by her sides, "and every second wasted on some misadventure would be letting my people down!"

"Okay, okay," Bismuth conceded. "Geez, you make it sound like you're the queen of Zofia…"

Celica met Alm's eyes again. Whether he was alive or not was inconsequential; she had a duty to her church and her country to speak with the mother. But now, staring into those soft green eyes, she wondered what it would mean to see him again. To feel his warm arms wrap around her again, her face close to his...she imagined herself leaning in, pressing her lips to his…

Suddenly, her mind flashed back to one of the many ancient books she'd studied at the priory, covering the geography of Rigel. A swampland, with water capable of showing those unfortunate enough to traverse it the person they wanted to see the most.

_The Mindful Mire._

Her eyes were open, and the image of Alm was only a few inches away from hers. She gasped and pulled back.

"What? What is it master?" Saber said.

"Don't look at the water, it will drive you mad!"

"What are you talking about?"

"This is the Mindful Mire. It was a trap Duma's followers set for Mila's forces during the ancient war. It shows us the person we want to see the most, ensnaring the mind until the person sinks into the mud or drowns."

"Well, too late for me," Bismuth muttered, tightening her face muscles in concentration. "I...can't...get out…"

Celica tried to move again, but the mud had reached her knees, so she got on all fours in an attempt to drag them out. She realized too late that this was a mistake, as the mire swallowed her hands and elbows as well.

"Blast...I can't use magic!" Celica shouted, hoping a wayward farmer in Zofia had heard them.

Just as she thought she was trapped, that they would all perish from such a simple trick of the mind, a bright flash emanated from Saber's sword like it had the previous night in the graveyard.

The bog released Celica's limbs, and she felt Bismuth's sinewy arms wrap around her abdomen and pull her to solid ground. As suddenly as the golden fire instantiated, it fanned out, and Saber stood next to them as if nothing had happened.

"Thanks," Bismuth said sheepishly.

Saber smiled her gratitude, and led them back over the border. Celica would not go out of her way to find her oldest friend; she had just learned how dangerous it was to dwell on people that had passed on in her life.

Later however, as Celica lay her head down to rest, she wondered what Saber saw in the water that had frightened her so. She considered asking, but rolling over on her stomach, saw that Saber had moved away from them, silently observing the bog by her lonesome.


	11. Chapter 11: White and Duma

The voyage to Earth was shorter than expected, much to Yellow Diamond's displeasure. In the time it would take a Pyrite to incubate, the handship had taken her, along with an entire platoon of quartzes and her Pearl, all the way from Homeworld to the colony she had once gifted to Pink.

Unlike Pink, who had fallen in love with the planet from the first moment she laid eyes on it, Yellow saw the Earth as nothing but an azure pebble floating in the cosmos. Beautiful, but worthless. It was far too small for habitation, and the organic life, on top of being unpleasant to look at, had been a thorn in Homeworld's side in the past.

But anything Pink wanted, Pink got. Pink had always been something of a paradox: always yammering on about wanting to be independent, yet relying on the other Diamonds for handouts. Blue had given in to Pink's demands far quicker than Yellow desired, but once even White began to cave, Yellow knew better than to fight a losing battle.

As expected, in only one cycle of running the Earth colony, a mere gem rebellion had forced Pink to retreat to the Diamond base on Earth's solitary moon. It seemed like every hour, Pink would page the Diamond Line, complaining of "Crystal Gems" and "difficult organic resistance."

Despite Blue and Yellow's best efforts to keep the news from reaching White, it did, and they were forced to make the trip to Earth's moon to deal with it.

"You begged us for a colony of your own," Blue had said to Pink in that motherly tone that drove Yellow mad. "First, there were too many organics, then their cities were too difficult to dismantle, and now, these Crystal Gems?"

Yellow couldn't even bear to look at Pink. The eons of frustration and embarrassment that came with caring for her seemed completely innocuous to the days of disappointment that certainly ahead. How could a Diamond be thwarted by a mere Rose Quartz soldier and a defective Pearl?

"You must understand," Blue soothed, "you are a Diamond."

It took all of Yellow's strength not to spin around and grab Blue's shoulder. Remind her that Pink should already know that she was a Diamond. They had an example to set, and there was no room for tears. No room for retreat. No room for weakness.

"As long as you are there to rule, the colony will be completed," Blue said finally. Yellow climbed aboard her ship without having castigated Pink once, something that was praiseworthy in its own right.

Less than a week later, they had received the fateful transmission from one of Pink's lieutenants. Though it wasn't surprising to hear Pink had failed, her shattering had been the worst possible outcome, one that even White in all of her wisdom could not have anticipated

But unlike Blue, who would likely spend the next eon in solitude, Yellow would take action. Gems would roll. Homeworld would quake in fear. Her Pearl had scorched Homeworld in search of every Rose Quartz, and as Yellow's handship neared Earth, her forces were destabilizing every single one of them.

Yellow had been expecting a transmission from Homeworld, hopefully someone telling her that all the Rose Quartzes were being harvested. The transmission came through just as the Moon Base appeared on the radar, but the person on the other end was the last person Yellow wished to talk too.

"My Diamond, er," her Pearl muttered. She had adopted a rather irritating mumble since Yellow's rampage on Homeworld.

"Speak up," Yellow responded with gritted teeth.

"White Diamond is trying to reach you."

"Put her through," Yellow said immediately, in an attempt to hide the chill that had run down her spine. What on Homeworld could White want?

"Leave us," Yellow said simply, and the puny gem scrambled from the room as if it were on fire.

_If only she were that swift when I needed her to be. _

The eerie notes of White Diamond's communication channel filled the ship and rang in Yellow's ears. Finally, White's perfectly chiseled face appeared on the monitor, staring back at Yellow with those hypnotic gray eyes.

"Ah, Yellow. You're looking strong and radiant today."

The burning anger in Yellow's heart evaporated instantly. There was nothing quite like the presence of White Diamond to quell any festering emotions.

"I...th-than-"

"I have just received word from my most informative Pearl that Pink Diamond is no longer with us," White said, as if she had merely broken a toenail. "Please understand that you have my full sympathy as a fellow Diamond. However, I must implore you to call off your planned invasion of Earth."

A prickle of anger found its way in.

"I...beg your pardon?"

It was the first time Yellow had finished a sentence in the presence of White in as long a time as she could remember.

"My ship is not far behind yours. We shall discuss a certain...opportunity at the Moon Base. I will meet you there."

The transmission ended, leaving Yellow in confused silence. Where did White come off, trying to keep her from avenging her fellow Diamond? Surely there was no more use for the Earth; if anything, what happened to Pink should make her want to purge the worthless rock even more.

Once her pilots were back in their seats, she ordered them to set a course for the Moon Base. She debated contacting Blue, to get her thoughts on the matter, but reminded herself that Blue wouldn't be much help in the state she was in.

The Base where Yellow and Blue had once chided Pink towered over the desolate surface of the moon, much like an injector would a flat canyon surface. Yellow wasted no time entering the base, for even the Earth's moon made her nauseous.

Once inside, Yellow couldn't help but admire the murals that had been commissioned in the Diamond's honor. It had been some time since she'd seen them, and despite the poor job the Auralite had done with Pink's (her hair wasn't spiked), Blue, White, and herself looked positively stunning. This had barely been enough to save the gem from being shattered.

The grand doorway to the base opening brought Yellow back to reality, and a familiar shadow obscured the image that had been painted of its source. Yellow's Pearl gulped, but a nasty look from Yellow was enough to keep her from withering under White's gaze. Anything would be better than a blast of Yellow Diamond's destabilizing beam.

The door closed, and fluorescent light bathed White Diamond as she moved inside. Her Pearl was not far behind, hovering eerily above the floor, her sole eye fixated on Yellow with the same intensity as her master. The cracks where the Pearl's other eye had been were more pronounced than the last time Yellow had seen her, though what could've provoked White to inflict more damage on her Pearl would likely remain a mystery.

"I appreciate your patience, Yellow," White said, her voice silky and sharp at once. "I'm sure there are many places you'd rather be than here, so I will make this quick."

White snapped her fingers, and a set of stairs emerged from the walls, leading up to the observatory where Blue and Yellow had once chided Pink.

"Follow," she said simply. "Your Pearl may remain down here with mine."

Yellow's Pearl regarded White's Pearl nervously, as if she would rather do anything but follow that order, but stayed put nevertheless.

The steps to the apex of the base would've taken an ordinary gem a good ten minutes to climb, but White and Yellow reached it in merely one. White took her seat on the throne in the center of the room, the ceiling retracting as she did so, revealing the starry plain of untamed Solar System.

"Ah Yellow, so strong, so radiant...and yet it is your emotions dictate your actions."

Yellow moved slowly into the room, frightened of making the slightest misstep.

"Do you know _why_ I allowed Pink to have this colony?"

"N-no," Yellow muttered, concentrating on the stars to avoid White's gaze.

"I wanted her to feel...important. And there is no colony more pressing right now than the Earth."

What it was White saw in the Earth, Yellow wasn't sure, but she knew better than to ask. Something in her expression tipped off White, however, for she narrowed her eyes at Yellow condescendingly.

"I see...we still don't see eye to eye. Perhaps a demonstration would be appropriate."

White withdrew something akin to a Diamond communicator from the folds of her gown, and placed it in an opening in the throne's armrest. The expanse of stars rippled, and a blank screen obscured them from view. After a few seconds, a satellite image of the Earth instatianted, a single blinking cursor appearing in the bottom left corner.

There was the soft beeping of keystrokes as White typed something on her screen, and a set of coordinates appeared where the cursor had been. The image was magnified, revealing a war-torn landscape rivalling the Homeworld Kindergarten for its sheer barrenness.

A massive crater dominated much of the top part of the image, and in the center, a lone tower cast a dark shadow on the dusty expanse, which was littered with debris and fallen rock. The tower itself was riddled with imperfections, and it resembled a lightning-struck tree. Entire parts of the structure seemed to have been blasted apart, so that the tower's interior was almost clearly visible.

"The organics call this old structure the Tower of Duma," White said, her smooth skin glowing in the reflection of her screen. "One of Blue's lieutenants, an Aquamarine on loan to Pink, reported to Blue after your conference with Pink's Jasper. She claimed an organic had attacked her from behind, and while recovering, heard her mention something about Duma."

Yellow said nothing, although she still wasn't following.

"Unlike Blue and yourself, I do not let emotions dictate my actions. Tragedy can be a fantastic motivator, and so I conducted my own research into what the human could possibly be talking about. At first, I believed the tower was simply named Duma, and that it served as an ancient center of commerce for the humans...until my lovely Pearl gathered some telescope footage from only one Earth cycle ago. Observe…"

The image disappeared for a moment, and when it returned a gorgeous sunset dominated the landscape. The crater was gone, but the landscape was still brown and sorely lacking in vegetation. That was until an all-encompassing white light dominated the sky, and something crashed into the surface with such force, it was incredible the tower stayed intact. White accelerated the scene, shockwaves from the meteorite's impact continuing to expand in every direction and terraforming the landscape, until it finally ceased and only the crater remained.

"Keep watching," White said before Yellow could interrupt. "The tower."

It happened so quickly, Yellow had to blink to confirm it was real. A single, red eye had peered out from the lowest level of the tower, followed by a flash of grotesque green scales, and then...nothing.

"What was…"

"That is Duma, Yellow. A being so powerful, it can manipulate those materials the organics call 'plants' to grow or not. There is no gem capable of that in our caste, even in my own court."

The image disappeared, and the throne groaned as White pushed herself to her feet. White put a hand on Yellow's shoulder, sending shivers down her spine, but knew the consequences of pushing her away.

"Records in Pink Diamond's archive show that there have been numerous complaints of ambushes by mysterious organic creatures that took significant force to terminate. The organics call them 'Terrors,' and I have an inkling that Duma and these beings are somehow connected."

Yellow wasn't sure how to feel. On one hand, she cared not for this "Duma," and merely wished to see the planet suffer. On the other, the idea of a creature that could manipulate life was at once frightening and exciting. With power like that at the Diamond's disposal, the galaxy would be at their mercy.

"We shall get everything we want," White said, rubbing Yellow's shoulder. "Once Duma awakens, the planet will be expunged from our star maps. Without oxygen, the monster will be greatly weakened, making its capture simple. It's a plan as flawless as myself…"

All Yellow could do was nod. Once again, White had shown her up. Proven why she was the superior Diamond; able to find something useful even in the most minute, most undesirable places. Though White's sudden obsession with privacy was beginning to thaw their relationship, at least it allowed White to be critical only in private. Yellow's court knew better than to turn against her, but they would certainly think less of her had they ever been exposed to White.

White resembled Pink in so many ways, although with Pink it had been more of a flaw than an asset. In the end, both had shared a similar appreciation for the Earth, but for different reasons.

Somehow, Yellow had found a strange appreciation for the Earth, and the creature incubating in its crust, when only ten minutes before she had sought nothing but its destruction.


	12. Chapter 12: The Fusion

Carocol wasn't sure how long he had been asleep, but it couldn't have been long, for the sky was still dark. All he knew was that something had applied pressure to the other side of the bed.

Through his sleep-deprived eyes, he saw Rose climb down from the top bunk, step over the pile of weapons in the center of the cramped dormitory, and out the door. He wasted no time getting up and following her, shutting the door loudly behind him in the hopes of waking Garnet and Pearl.

"Where are you going this early?" Carocol called once they were outside.

Rose froze in her tracks. Carocol had risen from his bed quickly to follow her outside, and the cool morning air was making his head ache and his stomach churn.

"I'm going to find the sailor. I'd like to discuss the course we are going to take later today."

"You're going the wrong way, then," Carocol said with a smirk.

Rose smiled back, a slight breeze ruffling her hair.

"Carocol...I should've known better than to try and fool you...I'm going to find Alm, by myself if need be."

A line of pink raced across the sky; Carocol could feel the dawn warming the back of his neck.

"Fine," Carocol said, before turning and walking back towards the inn. It was no skin off his back if she wanted to risk her life for some nameless boy.

"W-wait!" Rose called, feet pounding on the cobblestone street. Carocol felt her hand on his back, and exhaled a plume of foggy breath.

"I didn't mean it like that, it's just…"

Carocol smirked again.

"You can't leave him behind."

Rose shook her head, casting a worried expression to the northwest, in the direction of Rigel.

"He would've met us by now...I was up all night worrying about him."

Carocol opened his mouth, but thought better of admitting he had been spying on her.

"Then go find him. But if I were you, I would at least wait for your Crystal Gems to join you."

Rose smiled ruefully.

"There are a lot of things about my Homeworld I still haven't explained to you."

She paused, as a rooster began to crow in the distance. Already, merchants were setting out their wares, and sailors with bloodshot eyes emerged from the inn, dragging themselves to port with phantom memories of the night before.

"Pearls are exceedingly rare, made to serve higher gems. Our Pearl used to, er, belong to me, so to speak. Her dedication is to me, and me alone; oh, it just frustrates her when I get so caught up in the misadventures of humans, but I can't help it. I just love it...but I've already caused her to go against her own programming more than once."

"So...you would leave your faithful servant behind?"

"Yes," Rose said, although she didn't sound convinced. "To protect her."

"And what about Garnet?"

"Garnet is...harder to explain. But she'd probably agree with Pearl."

More people were flooding out of the inn; in no time, Pearl and Garnet were sure to emerge as well.

"And I would agree with them," Carocol said. "He's a human. You're something else. You should worry about your kind."

Rose was forcefully reminded of Yellow Diamond, a quality she had never expected to find in a human.

"Carocol, I cannot force you to come with me, but I have to save Alm. It would be against-"

She fell silent as Pearl and Garnet emerged from the Inn behind a rather shady-looking group of fortune tellers. Garnet was cradling a loaf of bread in her hands like a child, Pearl observing it with disgust.

"So, this is bread?"

"Garnet, I was kidding, you don't have to eat it, please do-Oh!"

Pearl collapsed in Rose's arms as Garnet took a huge bite of the loaf in her hand, an odd spaced out look coming over her.

"Rose, you're up early," Garnet said in a smooth voice once she'd swallowed.

"Yes, well…"

"You're going to look for Alm."

Rose blushed, and looked away.

"WHA-WHAT!?" Pearl screeched, jumping out of Rose's hands with unnatural vigor for someone who had just been unconscious. As Rose had expected, Pearl was vehemently against the idea. "Our ship leaves in two hours, Rose! We don't have time to go human-hunting!"

"It doesn't matter," Garnet said, cutting Rose off. "I saw us reuniting with Alm last night. Let's go."

"You can't be serious...Garnet, why didn't you say anything earlier?"

Garnet merely shrugged, and took another bite of her bread.

"But what about Bismuth?" Pearl said, choosing to ignore Garnet's child-like chewing (but shivering nevertheless).

"Bismuth will be fine," she said. Carocol noticed a slight hesitation to her answer. "If we're going to find Alm before sunset, I suggest we leave now. We have a lot of ground to cover."

"But, but…"

"Pearl," Garnet said with a note of finality in her voice. "We're going to Rigel, whether you like it or not. And you know I hate buts."

Rose smiled appreciatively at Garnet. Pearl put her hands on her head, as if it were fit to burst.

"Fine, let's go save the human! Just like we always do, hahaha...after me, Rose!" she said with a strange smile, pulling a spear from her forehead and leading the others out of town. Carocol stayed put.

"Coming, Carocol?"

"You have your Crystal Gems with you, you hardly need me."

But as Carocol took his first steps to the harbor, it was Garnet who stopped him.

"There was someone else in my vision yesterday. It was you."

Carocol shook his head.

"There are hundreds of fortune tellers in Zofia Harbor, y'know? If I wanted my fortune read, I would've paid for it."

"I don't understand you," Rose said, her voice quivering. "Why are you afraid to be my friend? When I've done everything to save your planet, your species...I've even saved your life!"

Pearl exchanged frightened glances with Garnet. Several passersby stopped and looked on. Carocol felt a burning sensation in his cheeks.

"Why, why why?!" Rose screamed, pounding the cobblestone like an overgrown toddler.

"Rose, it's...it's alright, I'm sure he's just messing around" Pearl said, putting her hands around Rose's ears and staring daggers at Carocol. "Right?!"

"I...uh...er…"

None of his years of training on the Yasha Island could've prepared him for this. He cast a quick glance at the harbor; if he made a run for it, he could no doubt get away before anyone could stop him. He tensed his muscles to do just that, but Garnet had stepped in front of him again.

"You'll have to go through me."

Carocol's temple throbbed.

"Please get out of my way."

"No." Her smooth voice made Carocol's blood boil.

"You're not the only one with a mission, here!"

How could these strangers, who he had met through happenstance, be so obsessed with keeping him around?

"That's great," Garnet continued. "You can still accomplish it...later. But right now, Rose needs you."

"I'm not like you or Pearl!" Carocol shouted, his rage boiling over. Just about everyone in the harbor was staring now, muttering things to their neighbors and pointing at the crying, pink woman or the screaming, young man with tan skin and pink hair. "I don't have to answer to Rose. I don't have to answer...to anyone!"

"Maybe, but if it wasn't for her, you wouldn't be here now."

Carocol felt the cool hilt of his blade, prepared to swing it if necessary.

"I didn't ask Rose to save me…"

"But she did."

Garnet removed her peculiar goggles, and Carocol had to find the fortitude not to flinch at the sight that beheld him. Three eyes, not two, stared through, not at, him. Even more unsettling was how they blinked, not synchronized like human eyes, but rather autonomously, as if each eye were controlled by a different being. The observers who saw this gasped, and backed away a couple of inches; Carocol even thought he heard someone retching.

"I can't pretend to understand the place you come from. I barely understand the Earth at all. Everything about Earth is so different from Homeworld, but one thing that makes us similar to humans, is that we both rely on each other in times of need. Nobody can do everything by themselves, no matter how hard they try, and that's alright…"

It was strange that this was coming from Garnet, who Carocol had regarded to be the most independent, and therefore most potent, of the Crystal Gems. Perhaps this rumination was reflected in Carocol's eyes, for Garnet had smiled.

What happened next, however, nearly convinced Carocol he was dead after all. A soft white light engulfed Garnet, and the crowd gasped loudly as her body _split in two_. Each figure was about half Garnet's original height, although their compositions were distinct: one was thin, and appeared to be wearing a rather frilly dress. The other had a peculiar square-shaped head, and wore a skin-tight outfit befitting a soldier.

The white light faded away, revealing two different gems, one blue and one red. The red one seemed rather uncomfortable standing in the public eye, shiftily gazing at the blue one as if she would do anything to hide behind her.

"Ruby completes me, as you complete us, Carocol," the blue one in the dress said. Whether you decide to join us or not, destiny has led you to Rose, and destiny will see us reunited regardless. You must understand, you are more than where you come from. We are more than the sum of our parts."

Carocol stared speechlessly at the little blue gem, as did everyone else in the square. Even Pearl and Rose's were staring wide-eyed.

"Um, Sapphire, can we…"

"Yes, Ruby, I've made my point."

Ruby blushed, and took Sapphire's hand in her own. The same soft light as before blanketed them once more, the two figures became one, and Garnet reformed.

"Let's go," she said, more to Rose and Pearl.

"Wh-what about Carocol?"

"As Sapphire said, he'll find his way to us."

Garnet walked briskly to the village gate, the villagers giving her a wide wake as she passed them. Pearl and Rose followed closely behind, the latter flashing one last, melancholic glance at Carocol.

The hundreds of eyes that had concentrated on Garnet focused on him. He felt a sudden hollowness in his heart, seeing the Crystal Gems disappear beyond the village gate, and guiltily made his way to the harbor. Nothing, even the discovery of what Garnet really was, would steer him from his quest, that remained true. Even then, in the back of his mind, antagonistic thoughts gnawed away at him.

Passersby didn't give him as much of a wake as they had Garnet when he passed, but moved aside regardless. Some flashed him rather dark expressions, but he knew it was simply because they didn't understand. How could they? Many of them, aside from the sailors, had never ventured from the warmth of their fireplaces for more than a few days at a time.

_Then again, _he thought darkly, _neither had I until a few days ago. _

At the harbor, he found the one-toothed sailor, clutching the spear Pearl had given him the day before jealously.

"Well maybe this ol' sea dog has been smelling these fruity urban scents too long...but warn't there more of ya's yesterday?"

Carocol came up with a lie: that they were merchants who suddenly had a sale come up in Ram Village and couldn't travel on that date.

"Fine by me. Unfortunately, one of my runts dropped a sack of flour in the water, so he's runnin' to the market to get some more. Shouldn't take more'n ten minutes."

Carocol sighed; that was far too much time. For the Crystal Gems to get a head start, and for him to change his mind. He turned and observed the village gate, thinking he had seen a familiar pair of twinkling eyes waiting for him, but he was mistaken.

"Breakfast," the guard in the hallway said. A bowl of something murky and pale slipped under the door of Alm's cell. His stomach quivered in excitement, but he didn't move from the bed. He wouldn't entertain his captors like some prized specimen.

Besides, he'd gone longer lengths of time with no food. At age 12, in one of his many fruitless attempts to find Celica, he'd gotten lost in the forest north of Ram for five days. It was towards the end of Wyrmstym then, and a blizzard had engulfed much of Zofia, making it harder for Mycen to find him.

He'd forgotten to take his bow with him, and so he spent the first couple of days carving a makeshift one and several arrows from the bark of an old yew tree. In the meantime, his hunger was subsided by berries and roots he gathered, and though they weren't fresh or filling, they had been something.

When Mycen did eventually find him, however, Alm's camp was filled with the skins of slain squirrels and rodents. Alm himself had just returned with his biggest kill yet; a young doe with enough meat to feed him for a week.

Alm had expected Mycen's full fury for his insolence, and he did get some of it upon their return to Ram, although even he had praise for Alm's resilience. What he said next would ultimately keep Alm rooted in Ram for the next few years, at least until a few days ago.

"When the day comes that Celica returns to Ram, how am I to explain what happened to you, should you die a nameless child in the wilderness somewhere?"

Alm would make sure his captors remembered his name; remember how he was the prisoner who wouldn't eat for days.

"I'm sure it doesn't matter to you," the guard said, "but I think whatever it is they're accusing you of, you're innocent."

He was half-right; it didn't matter. The second Alm tried to break free, the guard would have no qualms with stuffing Alm like a pig. That was how the Rigel Empire worked. Nevertheless, he couldn't pass up the chance to get more information.

"Who is accusing me? The Emperor?"

The guard hesitated.

"I shouldn't tell you."

"I'm not gonna try to break out. But if you think I'm innocent, you at least owe me an answer."

"Fine. It's the prince, Berkut. The one you met last night."

His answer only generated more questions.

"The man in gold?"

"Gods no. I believe he was dancing with the princess, Rinea, when you arrived last night."

"I wasn't aware the Emperor had a son."

"Neither was most of Rigel" the guard answered. "He appeared on the scene around six seasons ago, pushing for tighter sanctions on Zofia."

Alm could feel his blood beginning to boil. So, it was prince Berkut's fault that Zofia was in the restricted state that it was?

"We couldn't enforce it, of course, until the Emperor confirmed it was his son, and we were to take his orders."

"Isn't the Emperor the only person who's supposed to issue orders?"

"I suppose you're right...but we don't see the Emperor that much these days. Rumor is he's bedridden. Berkut's taken to ruling in his stead. It was around that time the golden man appeared."

"The man who attacked me in the woods?"

The guard grunted in agreement.

"But if you value your life, you'll call him 'my king' when you see him. That's at least what Berkut says."

"A king without the consent of his people is no more a king than a ship without a mast."

There was a pause, and when the guard spoke next, it was so quiet Alm had to press his head against the doorway to hear.

"The people of Rigel are aware, but there is nary a thing we can do about it. A couple weeks ago...there was an uprising in a village in the North Country. When word reached the capital, Berkut and this man, my King, ordered the grand army to quell it."

The guard gulped, and Alm feared he knew what came next.

"It was a massacre. To my understanding, only a few women and children remain. It...it was my home…"

His voice cracked on the last word. The hungry curiosity in Alm's veins faded away, replaced with a tinge of pity for the unnamed guard.

"I was ordered to lead the assault. I was still a captain then...But I wouldn't do it. I couldn't kill my neighbors, my friends...my family. So I was demoted, and here I am. When I received the news, I thought about forfeiting my spear right then and there, but this man...I don't think he would be merciful."

Alm couldn't think of anything to say. The anger returned, although this was an anger Alm had never experienced; it was hatred, for the arrogant prince and the golden stooge by his side.

"You need to let me out."

"I...can't do that."

Alm smashed his fist against the door, a thin stream of blood trickling down his arm as a splinter stuck in his index finger.

"I have friends, very powerful ones, who are waiting for me," Alm said quickly, puckering his lips against his digit to stop the bleeding. "When I find them, I'll tell them what happened. We can end this."

"No," the guard said loudly, stifling a sob. "The prince is difficult enough to defeat...but at least he's human. The other man...I know not from what world he comes from, but he launches blades, full-blown swords of steel and silver, and flings them effortlessly as if they were arrows. There is no defending against that."

"Maybe, but it will not be your life on the line."

The guard said nothing more, merely breathing in and out in a futile attempt to stem the tears. After a few minutes of this, Alm gave up and returned to his cot.

"I can end this," Alm repeated. "I want to end this. More than you know, I can understand losing someone due to circumstances beyond your control."

The metallic taste of blood filled Alm's mouth as he talked, and he didn't have a choice but to take a bite of the swill he had been served. It wasn't much better, but it was enough to get rid of the bitter taste of blood.

Alm was prepared to take another bite when there was a heavy grinding noise.

"Blast, I hope they didn't hear that…"

The cell door swung open, revealing a heavyset guard who could have filled the doorway by his lonesome. Two puffy eyes stared out at Alm from the mass of armor, shifting nervously.

"Hurry, go bef-"

It happened so quickly and so violently, Alm couldn't help but cry out.

There was an otherworldly humming in the hall beyond Alm's cell. The guard had turned to find the source of the noise, only for something to blast him in the forehead and knock him to the ground.

"I should've known our little rat would try to escape...and that this pitiful oaf would try to help."

Alm recognized the voice from the day before. The guard's spear had fallen from his hand, rolling back and forth between two grooves on the uneven floor. He was on the precipice of diving out into the hallway to retrieve it, although the thought of being skewered instantly by the man restrained him.

The footsteps were growing closer; it would be now or never.

Now.

Alm threw the door open, and his hands wrapped around the guard's spear handily. As he expected, the man the guard had referred to as "my King" stood at the end of the hallway. His thin, reptilian eyes glowed like lava in the torchlit hallway, adding credence to the nameless guard's claim that this man somehow wasn't human. He reminded Alm of the demons he had read about in storybooks.

"Relax, boy, I merely came up to talk to you."

"I have no words for you," Alm said in his most dangerous voice. "You're a murderer and a pretender."

Alm had little experience wielding spears. Perhaps the man could tell, for he began to laugh as Alm got into what he felt was a proper fighting stance.

"Put that toy down, boy, or you'll hurt yourself."

The only sound now was the crackling of the torchlight. Even though it was midday outside, the interior of the fort was still and dark.

"Is that so? Allow me to help you then."

Four portals of gold instantiated around Alm, but this time he was ready. At least, he thought he was.

He leaned to the left as one of the chains attempted to wrap around his bleeding hand, but a second chain constricted around his chest like a boa as he did so. His body launched backwards and crashed into the wall, the force knocking the wind out of him. Every muscle burned and his breathing was labored as the chains continued to cut away at his skin, but Alm concentrated all of his energy on keeping the spear in his hands.

"Do you know my real name, boy?"

Alm glared back resolutely. He could feel the beads of sweat forming on his scalp, trickling down his back like a drizzle.

"Consider yourself fortunate, for you have the pleasure of learning it. In the world I come from, I am known as the King of Heroes, Gilgamesh!"

The spear in Alm's hands was beginning to slip.

"I was known as the seeker of eternal life. Much like you, I had lost somebody early in my life, and much like you I was motivated to take action."

Had he the lung capacity to speak without forfeiting his only means of defense, Alm would have spat out his disgust with being compared to a villain like him.

"But in this life, this world I have been brought into, I have a new purpose. One that at first glance, no mortal would ever understand."

Gilgamesh's eyes flickered excitedly.

"You are, no doubt, aware that I know of the existence of the girl known as Celica."

"What do you want with her?" he managed to choke out.

"For the same reason one may treasure a goblet or blade. The girl is a means to an end. She is the key for me to change the world."

The chains continued to constrict Alm's chest, until finally he was forced to drop the spear and concentrate on his breathing.

"How will you change the world?!" he managed to say, before being forced to inhale as deeply as his lungs would allow.

But just then, there were more hurried footsteps. Berkut appeared at Gilgamesh's shoulder, face pale with concern.

"What in Rudolf's name is taking place up here? My wife is taking her afternoon siesta, and it sounds like Duma himself has come out of the ground!"

For an instant, Gilgamesh wore an expression that could make even the largest tiger cower in fear, angry that his game had been interrupted. The sentiment disappeared behind his confident smile.

"I was simply having a heart-to-heart with the boy, master. You see, he attempted to escape. He even went so far as to kill the guard."

Berkut's eyes fell on the slain guard. Mysteriously, the sword that had been wedged in the man's forehead had vanished.

"You dastard!" Berkut yelled, forgetting his sleeping wife downstairs. He advanced upon Alm with such fury, it was a wonder the floor didn't cave in. "I should've known the grandson of Mycen would try to weasel his way out of trouble! I suppose you will be too much trouble to take all the way back to the capital; execute him!"

So this was it. For the second time in less than one cycle of the sun, Alm faced the end of his life. For the second time, his mind wandered to his grandfather, who perhaps had been right all along. His friends in Ram Village, who would've talked him out of it, and Celica, who would never know he had tried to find her after all this time…

"No."

Both Berkut and Alm shot Gilgamesh mystified glances.

"Would it not be better to...do so in front of your subjects? Your declaration of a new Rigel would not come across so strongly if you were to execute the grandson of the legendary Zofian General in the hallway of a nameless fort."

Berkut looked at Alm, then back at Gilgamesh, like a child forced to choose between two brands of candy.

"I...I suppose you're right," Berkut said, putting a hand on the back of his neck sheepishly.

"If my master would prefer to do this sooner rather than later, it would be prudent to leave tonight just before the moon begins to rise, and before the air begins to freeze."

"Tonight? But, my wife has only just arrived…"

"I fear your problems would be compounded if you were to stay another night. His friends will surely come looking for him soon. And yes-" Gilgamesh added, for he had seen Alm's eyes widen, "-I am aware of that little group of mongrels you had by your side. That urchin Fernand told me so."

"My wife will resist."

"Perhaps...it would be better if your wife stayed here with me?"

"What?!" Berkut exclaimed. "If there is an attack against the fort, I want mywife nowhere near the conflict!"

_If Berkut cared about his countryfolk the way he cared abour Rinea, _Alm thought bitterly, _maybe it wouldn't be crumbling from within._

"You misunderstand me; Rinea would stay inside while I dealt with our enemies outside. I can easily dispatch those mongrels by my lonesome, but it would be far easier if I was closer to the source of my mana."

Berkut still showed some reservations, but every time he looked to have a retort he seemed to think better of it.

"At all costs, my king, keep my wife safe."

Alm couldn't believe his ears.

"You would leave your wife in the hands of this madman?"

"Silence!" Berkut said, although his expression was troubled. "Steel yourself, whelpling, for in an hour we will depart for the capital. It is a week's journey, so make sure to savor every second; by dusk tomorrow, your head will be hanging from the castle gates for the crimes of your grandfather."

The chains lifted Alm effortlessly in the air as if he were nothing but a rag doll. Berkut disappeared downstairs.

"Have gratitude, mongrel, for I have spared your life."

With that, Alm was launched back into his cell, and with a final laugh and click of a lock, he was a captive specimen yet again.

With nothing else to do but eat, Alm picked the bowl of swill off the floor and finished it in short order. He had never thought swill could taste so good, but with the imminent possibility of never eating again, he supposed anything would've done the job.


	13. Chapter 13: Wrath of the Hero King

To Yellow Diamond, the Earth was nothing but a tumor in the otherwise blemishless expanse of the solar system. What use was "organic life" when compared to the precious gases of Jupiter, which could accelerate Kindergarten incubation? Or the hardened materials in Saturn's rings, which were used in the headgear of Jasper soldiers?

Organic life was nothing more than a source of shallow entertainment; test dummies for transcendent beings. Had someone told the Diamonds, however, that there was a resident on the planet Earth that shared this belief, they would enjoy a truly rare round of laughter at their expense (and if this someone were a gem, likely de-stabilized on the spot for spouting nonsense).

But there was such a person, and at this moment, he was staring out at the oyster he so wished to discard.

Berkut had finally departed for the capital after a long row with his wife. Though Gilgamesh couldn't remember exactly how many treasures and weapons he possessed, he was often thankful that a wife was not one of them.

On the odd occasion, when lust would wake him early in the morning, he would think otherwise, but as mindfulness and reason settled in, the sensation would vanish. Though he was a king back in his day, and therefore had unlimited access to his nation's concubines, this could not satisfy him. He sought the genuine article, not the fake, warped sensation of love reserved for the dreams of the peasantry.

This had become one of the sources of his antagonism towards the Earth; the fact that this genuine article didn't seem to exist. It was also a point of contention between he and Berkur, although Berkut would never admit this.

Rinea, who had come from a house of far lesser value to Rigel, had barged into the young man's life and taken the reins, something that revolted Gilgamesh. Had she not summoned him into this world, and therefore had the power to take him out of it, she would be dead already merely for that fact alone.

The sound of soft, even footsteps ascending the tower staircase alerted Gilgamesh that she was approaching. She wore the most intimidating look a young woman of 21 could pull off, but Gilgamesh could tell she was more deeply hurt than anything. He could see this pain bubbling to the surface, soft and pale like a snowflake, as if the slightest wrong word would make her melt.

"What are you playing at, encouraging my husband to return to the capital without me?"

Gilgamesh smirked, focusing on the distant sun as it dipped below the horizon.

"It is for his safety, master, and yours. The boy has friends, powerful friends, that I can flummox single handedly." Gilgamesh narrowed his eyes at Rinea. "Frankly, I've grown to be very disappointed in your lack of faith. Do you not yearn for the perfect world your husband and yourself envisioned? A world without violence?"

"Of course I do, but...but I never wished for it to happen this way! Poisoning my father-in-law, killing innocent soldiers simply because they failed their objective...this is not the way of a peacekeeper, but a madman!"

"Spoken like a politician, not a leader," Gilgamesh retorted. "If you wish for a world without bloodshed, there must be bloodshed first. If you wish for a world without warring houses, there must've been warring houses in the first place. True peace is only established when there has been a terrible suffering. If I am not mistaken, I believe Duma himself ruled by that principle?"

Rinea's expression faltered slightly.

"I may not have the breadth of knowledge you do about humankind, King of Heroes, but surely…there is another way?"

"I would hear of it."

He knew she had nothing to say. He'd met many peasant girls like her in his years as king, crying about how the world should and shouldn't be. But when asked how to get to that utopia, they never had an answer. Just more questions.

Human beings could never create a perfect utopia, because to Gilgamesh they were failed experiments. Much in the same way a fish could never learn to walk on land, a human could never create a perfect world.

"I am heading to my bedchamber, not to be disturbed," Rinea said, with a final flash of blue hair. "I want no part in your mess; I expect you to keep the fort safe from enemy fire."

"You'll have it, master."

With a final, sad glance in the direction of the capital, Rinea descended back into the fort. Gilgamesh had only told her part of his beliefs. Perhaps it was partially true that a great suffering would bring peace, but for how long? When humans would surely compete to stay on this miserable rock for as long as possible before death took them?

There wouldn't need to be suffering, but an extermination, to make their dream a reality. And if they got in the way of his destiny, then so be it.

It was just around dusk when the Crystal Gems finally came upon the old fort where Alm had been kept prisoner.

"Perhaps we can rest here for the night," Rose suggested. They had traveled through the same barren woodland as Alm had, and twigs and leaf fragments dotted Rose's hair. Pearl wiped obsessively at every part of her body, while Garnet merely stood and observed the old fort. That was, until she shook her head like a wet dog, expelling a cloud of dirt and tree matter that enveloped the group.

"This place isn't nearly as lush as where we were. What happened here, Garnet?"

Garnet shrugged her shoulders, and placed a sprig of grain in her teeth. Ruby had evidently decided to take over.

As Pearl opened her mouth to educate Garnet on the dangers of organic germs, however, a cold voice echoed through the night.

"There you mongrels are! I've been expecting you."

The voice came from the decrepit tower in the center of the fort, the highest point.

"Human, I know not why you insult us, but we wish to stay in your fort," she chirped. She squinted her eyes curiously, as if she recognized the man.

"It is no use hiding the truth from me, my delicate little flower. I shall stomp you into the soil regardless."

Rose's face darkened.

"It is you," she said. Her voice had lost its sweet texture, and within seconds her sword and shield were in her hands.

"You've come looking for your human friend, I presume?"

A tempest of humid, dusty air buffeted the trio, although it couldn't offset the unnatural chill that had taken over Rose.

"How do you…"

"I know all, pebble. The Earth is my most precious possession, after all, and though I am indifferent to nearly every worthless insect upon its surface, I understand some are more significant than others."

The desert wind intensified, obscuring the man in a screen of sand for brief moment.

"What do you want with the boy?"

The man laughed in the same manner as White Diamond would, an arrogant, high-pitched sound carried down to them by the gust. It made Rose's hair stand on end.

"Have you still not connected the dots? Are you not one of the greatest warriors of your nugatory Homeworld?"

He paused, and withdrew something from under his gold tasset. There was a flash of fuschia, followed by a blue aura that reflected in the overcast sky's silver lining.

"Is this not yours, gem warrior?"

It took Rose a moment, but as she recognized the coalescing tones of bright color, she put a hand to her mouth. The stone in the man's hand was not something Rose would possess, but Pink Diamond. The Larimar stone, the most sacred of gem technology that could bring any gem, regardless of luster or cut size, back from a shattered state.

"I have never seen that before in my life," Rose answered in the most even voice she could manage (although Pearl had seen it too and was glancing nervously at Rose). "Is that supposed to mean something to us?"

"I see…" the man answered slowly. "Perhaps one of my precious treasures took out a piece of your brain that day. What I hold, when combined with the seals of the Inheritors of Arcadia, will bring about the end of mortal society."

"Inheritors..."

"Of Arcadia?" Pearl said, finishing Rose's thought.

"You truly are mindless locusts, you gems...carelessly settling yourselves on my bountiful harvest, ignorant of its quality or properties."

A wormhole of gold, so large and bright that the gems were forced to squint, appeared behind Gilgamesh, a single halberd slowly creeping out of it. It was easily the largest weapon Rose had ever seen, its edges sharp and smooth like the surfaces of Diamond Temples back home. At its tip was a single head, sharper even than Pearl's spear, and Rose found herself unsure if the weapon was truly a halberd or a modified lance.

"We don't want to fight!" Rose shouted, although the effect of this statement was lost as Garnet and Pearl both drew their weapons. The man took hold of the giant axe, the sky suddenly becoming enveloped in a haze of blood-red as he did so.

"That may be so, but I am in need of entertainment. Perhaps if you entertain me long enough, I will tell you all I know. I don't expect it…"

In one jump, the man crossed the length of the fort and landed in front of the Crystal Gems, slinging the weapon across his back. Rose glanced at Pearl and Garnet, the former's spear trembling in her hands, the latter wiping sweat from her brow.

"I, Gilgamesh the King of Heroes (and you would do well not to repeat my name), challenge the three of you to contest of strength. I shall face the slender one, followed by the strange one, and if I shall defeat them, I shall face you," he said, indicating Rose. "If you win, I will open up my secrets and desires to you, including where the boy is."

Rose's expression narrowed. If she hadn't stood a chance against him as a Diamond, she nor Garnet or Pearl would fare any better.

"I will face you myself," Rose said. "Leave Pearl and Garnet out of it."

Another cold laugh emerged from the man's throat. The fort loomed over them like a sleeping dragon, casting eerie shadows as the sun hid behind the steep mountain faces, obscuring everything but the man's vile eyes.

"How noble. Very well, pebble, I will accept your challenge. I hope your Authority will be watching as I separate your head from your body."

An explosion of force expelled Garnet and Pearl from the makeshift arena, and had Rose not summoned her shield she too would've been blown away. From the quagmire of sand, the tip of Gilgamesh's halberd thrusted at Rose's shield. The force of the blow was enough to loosen Rose's composition, and before she could recover, the halberd slashed at her a second time. Rose barely ducked in time as the resulting collision of divine metal with Homeworld technology sent the latter flying from her grip.

When the dust finally cleared, Rose was surprised to see that Gilgamesh had barely moved an inch. The halberd's head had extended to meet Rose. The advantage he had was clear.

"In the realm I come from, this weapon was known as the God Force. In many ways, it is the perfect weapon," Gilgamesh explained. Rose clutched her shield arm, which had been wrenched quite painfully from the force of the second blow, and generated another shield in its place. "It is at once an axe, a spear, a bow, and even a cannon. You and your homeworld have no clue what us Gods are capable of."

"That's not fair!" Pearl shouted at from the sidelines. "Rose, take m-"

Before Rose could even blink, a sword plunged through Pearl's abdomen, reducing her to nothing but her gem.

"I apologize, but I do detest distractions. Shall we continue?"

The two blades of the halberd's head suddenly extended like wings, and Gilgamesh adjusted his grip so that the weapon pointed at Rose like a bow. Despite the thing's sheer size, Gilgamesh pulled back effortlessly, and soon Rose was rolling along the ground, avoiding bolts the size of Ruby ships as they crashed all around her. In desperation, she launched her shield at Gilgamesh, but a portal instantiated before him and intercepted it.

"Creative move, mongrel, but you'll need to go on offense to stand a chance against me! Allow me to help you…"

But as one of Gilgamesh's many blades appeared from its wormhole beside him, Garnet jumped in the fray and shattered the blade in midair with a stiff punch with her gauntlet.

"You cur!" Gilgamesh shouted. "You shall learn the same painful lesson as your contemporary!"

Rose, although appreciative that the distraction allowed her to regenerate her shield, could only stare on in horror as Gilgamesh concentrated his vault on Garnet.

"Garnet!" she cried out in despair, as a javelin the size of Yellow Diamond's handship hurtled through the air towards the fusion. Then, to both her and Gilgamesh's surprise, she reached out...and _caught it._

"You fight like someone who's had their heart broken," Garnet said with a wink, before turning and launching the javelin into the air. Gilgamesh grimaced, and without warning two more projectiles launched in Garnet's direction. Without flinching, Garnet struck the first, a rapier, which shattered, and leaned to the left to avoid the second, a tomahawk.

"Precognition," Gilgamesh muttered. The sandstorm picked up, so that all Garnet and Rose were forced to shield their faces. Gilgamesh, however, did not. "So you can see my future actions. But what of it? Like your friend, all you can do is play defense."

"Then let's have some fun," Garnet fired back with a smirk. The wind was now at Garnet's back, allowing her to launch forward with tremendous velocity. This time, it was Gilgamesh's turn to be ready.

A metallic ringing sound filled the air, and Garnet was trapped in a silver web of chains. She struggled in vain as they stretched her muscles beyond their limits. In a matter of seconds, Garnet was rendered immobile, and Gilgamesh stepped forward, regarding the fusion like a spider would a delicious fly.

"Before I end your life, know that you had the honor of entertaining me, if only for a minute or two."

With a wave of fury unlike anything she had ever felt, Rose withdrew her sword once more, screaming until she felt her lungs would puncture, charging at Gilgamesh with the sole intent of doing as much harm as possible. It was one thing to do harm to her or to humans; it was another to do harm to her friends!

Her rage blinded her to the pain, as blade after blade impaled her arms and legs. However, against her will, her legs gave out, unable to push forward anymore. Her gem had expended to its limits, and she would be incubating soon.

Gilgamesh approached her, keeping Garnet in the corner of his eye, as if unsure which prey to put out first.

"Playtime is over," he said simply, staring down at Rose as if to resolve his quandary. But as the heavenly hum filled the air, and the sword that would slay Rose appeared by Gilgamesh's side, another voice rang out behind Rose, a familiar one that, for only a moment, nullified the pain coarsing through her body.

"Is that so?"

Gilgamesh regarded the source of the voice, and as he did so, the veins in his forehead began to bulge and a dangerous look appeared in his eyes.

"How do you live, mongrel?"

No response.

_Run. _Rose couldn't speak. She couldn't move. But she had to tell Carocol to leave, to get away. _Please, run, _she thought in vain, hoping somehow he could hear him.

"Answer me!" Gilgamesh shouted, as he launched the sword intended for Rose in the direction of her human companion. There was the sound of steel meeting steel, and to Rose's satisfaction Gilgamesh clenched his teeth even tighter.

Then, a rush of color returned to his face, as if a drop of blood had mingled with a pool of clear water, and the sinister smile returned to his face.

"Do you know who I am, child of the Yasha?"

Rose could feel every cut on her gem protest, but she managed to turn and face Carocol, who was regarding Gilgamesh with an expression she'd never seen before.

"How do you know of my heritage?"

"It matters not. I know everything about my world. What if I told you, godless son, that I have divine blood running through my veins?"

Every hint of color in Carocol's face disappeared.

"Would you continue to defy me?"

Rose tried to lift her sword, but she had expended the remainder of her gem's energy.

"You are no more a God than I am!" Carocol retorted, although he didn't sound entirely convinced.

Gilgamesh extended his arms dramatically.

"Look around you, mongrel! I can launch the most powerful of manmade weapons as if they were handfuls of sand! I have conquered these invaders by my lonesome!"

Carocol's grip on his blade lessened with each word.

"Is it not the way of the Yasha to get involved in the affairs of the Gods, am I right?"

There was a dull _thump_, as the sword slipped through Carocol's hands and into the sand.

_What are you doing!? _Rose felt like shouting. The boy, who she had seen defeat two fully-grown Topaz by his lonesome, knelt in the sand, head bowed as if paying fealty.

"Perhaps your people would be proud, but your continued existence is nothing but a nuisance to me. And for that, you will perish."

A quick gasp escaped Rose, as a sword skewered Carocol's forehead. She used what remaining strength she had to close her eyes, waiting for the inevitable sound of the boy collapsing on the sand...but it never came.

Though the impact had certainly dazed Carocol, he had somehow managed to stay upright, even as a stream of red blood drenched the blade stuck in his skull.

"You heathen! Why won't you perish?!"

A second blade plunged through Carocol's mouth, but still he did not buckle. The humming grew in pitch, and as Rose turned back to face Gilgamesh she was forced to squint as hundreds of weapons appeared from the unknown vault, unleashing a golden light brighter than ten White Diamonds.

"My vault is infinite, mongrel. For your insolence, I shall not seek respite until every inch of your flesh has been violated by steel!"

Rose closed her eyes again, waiting for the onslaught. She would certainly be in the line of fire herself, after all. But for the second time, the thing she expected had not come.

Gilgamesh appeared to be at war with himself, his body leaning forward like an animal fighting its restraints. He turned, cursing at a dark figure that had appeared in the entryway of the old fort. Though the brightness of Gilgamesh's many blades obscured the image, Rose could make out the frail figure of a young woman. There was a peculiar crimson aura emanating from her hand, which somehow seemed to concentrate on Gilgamesh.

"You foul wench! What are you playing at, Rinea?"

The blades slowly began to dissipate, and Rose could see the girl known as Rinea now, and found it incredible that a young woman so fragile could control a man so powerful.

"Your responsibility was to slow the advancing party down, Hero King, not brutalize them. You will not blemish this sacred battleground with any more bloodshed! I command you once more, cease your attack now!"


	14. Chapter 14: Will of the Princess

Gilgamesh spat on the ground, as the last of his many blades faded into nothingness. The chains holding Garnet in place disappeared as well, and the force of gravity (which was slightly stronger than it was on Homeworld) dragged her down into the sand.

"You would dare stand in the way of my designs? My destiny?"

Rinea stepped forward, so that fading daylight uncovered her features. If anyone could contain a man with as much power as Gilgamesh, Carocol certainly had not expected it to be this woman. She resembled a wilting flower, with soft, pale skin and watery eyes that looked fit to burst at the slightest outburst.

"No, I stand between a tyrant and innocents."

Gilgamesh uttered a deep growl, so that he resembled a spoiled child not getting his way. Rose found herself amused by this change in personality, so much so that she forgot the immense pain shooting through her limbs. She was also surprised to feel her strength returning, and realized the swords that had been jutting out of her body were now gone.

"I made a mistake, summoning you," Rinea said in a trembling voice. "I'd believed you to be the King of Heroes, but in the time you have spent here you've proven to be nothing but a brute. A brigand. My husband may share the desire to create a new world with you, and he may even condone some of your actions, but I will not sit idly by and let you conduct evil for the sake of the end product anymore."

Gilgamesh bowed his head, so that his expression was unreadable. What followed was a tense silence, Rose allowing her gem to stabilize again, Garnet holding her arms where the shackles had been, Carocol still in a kneeling pathetically before Gilgamesh.

Finally, Gilgamesh turned and regarded Carocol.

"Count your blessings, godless half-breed," Gilgamesh said in a gravelly voice. "The fact that you live today is pure luck, and the fact that you will continue to live is dumb luck. The next time we meet will be your last. When my new world is created, I will make sure you are the first casualty."

With a final narrowing of the eyes, the man was consumed by a plume of golden fire and disappeared.

Rose opened her mouth to thank the woman for her kind heart, but she too had disappeared. Garnet, in the meantime, had made her way over to a divet in the sand, where a single, pale gem collected sand.

"She'll be out for a while," Garnet said blankly. "Rose, you knew that man, didn't you?"

"Yes," Rose said, slowly getting to her feet, regarding Pearl's gem with a pained expression. "I never thought he would be in league with the men who attacked us yesterday. I'm afraid Alm is in great danger."

Carocol plucked his sword from the sand and sheathed it, the grinding of the steel alerting Rose of his presence. He knew the question was coming before it left her lips.

"Why didn't you fight?"

But Carocol said nothing. He knew Rose, who had actively bragged about turning against the society that had bred her, could never understand the loyalty he had to his island, even hundreds of miles away as he was now. The tradition of divine neutrality still flowed through his veins; he would not dare risk attacking Gilgamesh, should he truly have been descended from the gods.

"Carocol, why didn't you fight?" she repeated.

"The Yasha do not pick fights with gods."

"You could've been killed again!" Rose shouted, and Carocol feared she would break down in tears again. "And this time, there wouldn't have been anything I could do to save you!"

"Then so be it!" Carocol shot back.

He looked around, not sure where to go to avoid Rose's gaze. Perhaps it had been a mistake to rejoin them...After all, he'd already broken a Yasha code by doing so, foregoing his mission to help foreigners. It was a code that was rather dated; the kind you read in a scripture and remember for its frivolity. The Yasha had rarely interacted with foreigners anyway, so why would such a code exist?

It was Garnet who spoke next.

"If you're going to travel with us, we need to know if we can trust you."

Carocol glared at the bespeckled gem, still trying to think of a place to get away from them for a while. They would be angry for the short term, and he understood, but they would come around in time. Unfortunately, there just didn't seem to be a place to get away. The fort, while an obvious choice, was where Rinea was, although he wasn't sure of her alignment in this strange ballad he had found himself in.

"We're even now," Carocol finally said to Rose. "You saved my life, I have now saved yours. I'm coming with you to pay off my debt, but even then, there are things I won't do."

"So that's it, then?" Rose said in a dark tone Garnet had evidently never heard, for she looked at Rose curiously. "You came because you felt you owed me?"

Carocol nodded.

"If there is one thing we Yasha hate, it is debt. Why do you think your fellow gems suffer? Your rulers create the illusion of indebtitude, much like the kings and queens of this continent."

Rose looked like she wanted to respond, but her face turned an odd color and she looked away.

She couldn't give away the truth about her being a Diamond, not to Garnet at least.

"Why do you think we're fighting the Diamonds?" Garnet answered in her stead.

"Evidently, you have a debt to pay off."

Garnet did something very strange in response to this. Though the air had grown considerably cooler since his arrival, it wasn't quite the temperature to make one shiver, and yet Garnet clutched her shoulders as if the air had frozen.

"No, Ruby…" she muttered. "He can't...understand, he's not a gem...I'll explain."

Then, as if nothing were amiss, she stood upright, and cleared her throat. She spoke clearly and calmly, even more so than usual.

"When Ruby and I first fused, it was an accident. But my Diamond, Blue Diamond didn't see it that way...She wanted to shatter us, just for making a simple mistake. Up until that point, I had been one of the highest ranking gems in her entourage.

"It had nothing to do with debt," she added aggressively; this was Ruby speaking now. "The Earth set me free. Not everyone is bound to the place they come from, not like you."

Carocol had heard enough. Both Garnet and he drew their weapons at the same time, Garnet cracking her neck, ready to defend her fusion…

"Enough, both of you!" Rose shouted, stepping between them. Garnet respectfully lowered her gauntlets, adopting her cool demeanor once more. "We must be united if we are to face that man again, and unfortunately, that seems likely. I'm afraid he has something to do with Alm's disappearance."

If Gilgamesh had been so willing to tear apart Carocol merely for surviving their first encounter, Rose shuddered to think how he treated his prisoners.

"You continue to worry about Alm. But what makes you so sure that he is different than I?"

Rose threw Carocol a reproachful look.

"He would stand up for his friends."

"Against a god? You forget that the people of Zofia follow the teachings of Mila. If Gilgamesh were a descendent of Mila, Alm would have done the same."

"You lie," Rose replied automatically, although her mind wandered to Jasper, Aquamarine, and all of the other gems that served the Diamonds. Had Pink Diamond openly declared war against her sisters on Homeworld, there was no doubt they would side with the Diamond they had been assigned to. It wasn't a matter of choice; it was merely their programming.

It was the same reason Pearl would never disobey an order from Rose, no matter how opposed she was to it. Pearl would eat fermented salmon heads if Rose so desired it.

As for Garnet, and perhaps Bismuth and the other gems that had joined the rebellion, they had willingly thrown off the shackles of their programming to join the rebellion. At one point to Rose, they had been exceptions, but the fact remained that she still had a Diamond in her abdomen. Whether they were aware of it or not, the Crystal Gems still adhered to the will of a Diamond.

But humans couldn't be programmed the same way...could they?

"It's simply a part of being human," said Carocol. "The only difference is, my people don't pick sides. We have created a self-sufficient society independent from the prying hands of the gods, all by staying neutral. Staying off of the mainland, and isolating ourselves from their invisible hands. It's the kind of world you want for your Crystal Gems, is it not?"

A cool, starry night had replaced the evil sky Gilgamesh had conjured. The sandstorm had finally come to a rest, leaving the Crystal Deliverance in pure, motionless silence. The world Carocol described did sound nice to Rose, except that the Diamonds didn't simply let gems live on their own. They had to have control over every gem in the galaxy, and what was more, they were united. They didn't have to force their gems to take sides.

"Regardless," Garnet finally said, to break the unbearable tension. "We need to get to Alm, and we need to be prepared to face Gilgamesh a second time."

Rose nodded, though she could not think of a conceivable way to beat him. For the longest time, she had believed Yellow Diamond to be the strongest being in existence, but it was her understanding that her lightning manipulation could only affect gems. Gilgamesh's weapons did not discriminate who or what they tore apart, and Rose had the sinking feeling that they had only seen a taste of the man's power.

Carocol turned to head to the fort, but for a moment his eyes widened, focusing on a shadow that seemed to be approaching them.

"That won't be necessary."

And as Rose and Garnet turned to face the shadow, a sliver of moonlight crept over the surrounding mountain peaks, and a flash of forest green commanded their attention. The shadow was clutching his shoulder, the only skin aside from his face that wasn't protected by heavy armor, and a sword hanging loosely from the injured arm.

Rose and Garnet ran out to meet him, their exultations of glee echoing off the mountaintops as Alm returned the embrace.


	15. Chapter 15: The False Master

Chapter 15:

"Later," was all Alm could answer to the barrage of questions Rose had hurled at him. His skin was red and flaky, the desert winds having punctured them. His mouth was bone dry, so that his windpipe was nearly paralyzed. Rose, having little understanding of the Earth, had never seen "thirsty" before. Sapphire had anticipated this, and combining her freezing magic with Ruby's natural internal temperature, generated a handful of water that Alm guzzled greedily.

Without Gilgamesh, it had been easy for him to escape Berkut's envoy.

The royal soldiers could not find a suitable material to tie Alm up, so two barons were assigned to watch him at all times. Alm wasn't sure what had taken over Berkut, but even the simplest of military minds knew the armor befitting barons was practically a death sentence in desert climes. Only an hour into the journey towards the capital, they had begun to slow down, taking larger sips from their canteens each time they paused until they eventually ran dry.

Rigelian soldiers were far too proud to ask for more water, Alm knew, so this was as good a chance as any.

Simply running, however, would not have been an option, as steep canyons surrounded the path and they were at the front of the party. Alm had taken a quick glance over his shoulder. Berkut was gazing pompously upon his forces, flanked by scores of mercenaries. Some of the ones in the front looked rather young, and Alm thought it possible to take one of their weapons by force.

He faced forward again for a few minutes, so as not to arouse suspicion. When he turned back a second time, he focused on the cavaliers bringing up the rear. Though the sand would certainly hamper their mobility, they would likely outrun Alm. He eyed the surrounding canyon nervously; it was the only escape. Only the mercenaries and their myrmidon commanders would give chase, but surprisingly, they seemed more sluggish and sunbeaten than the barons.

Alm began counting down from 10 in his head.

_5...4...3...2…_

"Soldiers, get a move on! You're holding up the party!"

The two barons by Alm's side picked up the pace, and Alm could feel Berkut's eyes on the back of his neck, warmer than the desert sun itself. The chance had slipped away; no doubt Berkut would be watching him closely now.

But a few moments later, Berkut had begun barking at some of the cavalry.

"Hold!" he called, and the party did so. "Bertra, Collin, assist private Aidan with his horse."

Alm turned and craned his neck, following the two mercenaries as they began helping a horse get its hoof out of a deep pile of sand. It was whinnying angrily, kicking at the air with its free legs. He knew he wouldn't get another chance like this.

With a quick movement of his wrist, Alm easily broke out of the grasp of his captors. Berkut could only turn and watch as Alm shoved one of the mercenaries to the ground, wrenching the sword from his grasp in the process.

The other mercenaries were upon him like a moth to a flame, but somehow, perhaps through Mila's blessings, he managed to duck under each blade. It was Berkut's blade that had caught him in the shoulder, causing him to cry out in pain and pause for a moment. The sight of pursuing mercenaries was enough to motivate to begin climbing, even as his injured shoulder protested.

An arrow skewered the sandstone where his injured shoulder had just been, another narrowly missing his ear. As he had expected, only the mercenaries and myrmidons tailed him like hound dogs. His injured shoulder was hampering his climbing speed considerably, and at one point he looked back to see they were only a couple feet behind him now.

"Ah!" he gasped as his hand slipped on a loose rock. He'd been watching the soldiers so diligently, he hadn't realized how the smooth sandstone had given way to looser rocks. Below, however, he could hear his pursuers protesting as well, and inspiration ignited in him. Alm climbed more recklessly than before, showering the pursuing soldiers with falling stone.

With one final heave, Alm launched himself up to the cliff ledge, realizing he hadn't figured out which direction he should go. Heading further into Rigel would be tantamount to suicide; his distinctive green hair and Zofian features would give him away in an instant. Heading back in the direction of Zofia was only slightly less damning, although there was a chance of reuniting with his friends.

Though he would not admit it, he had given up on his original quest to find Celica. If a man as powerful and as sinister Gilgamesh wished to change the world, far more people than Celica would be in danger. With this in mind, he ran back in the direction where they had come from, arrows and the occasional incantation whizzing by his head until finally they were out of earshot.

Running for most of the journey, even as every ounce of moisture was drained from his body, it had taken half a day to get back to the fort where he had been marooned. He never expected to come across Carocol upon his arrival, however; surely, the outsider would have continued on his quest and returned home.

But now, here he was, regarding Alm with a combination of reverence and annoyance.

"What's important," he began as his vocal cords came back to life, "is that we need to head back north. We need to find Gilgamesh."

"B-but Alm, look at yourself! We need to rest, we need to plan."

"There's no time," Alm said with a hint of urgency. Rose's expression fell.

"But what about Celica?"

"And Bismuth?" Garnet added.

"We'll...just have to hope they're okay on their own," Alm said in a low voice. He continued with as much confidence as he could muster. "Gilgamesh and Berkut are planning something, and I'm afraid it has something to do with Duma."

"Duma?" Carocol said finally.

"Yes," Alm said impatiently. "Gilgamesh intimated that he and Berkut were going to change the world, and Gilgamesh dropped his name. I don't know how they would utilize Duma...or even how they would control him. Duma has been festering in the Earth for thousands of years…"

The sheer insanity of the plan crossed Alm's mind as he spoke. Gilgamesh was powerful beyond compare, but even he didn't have the power to bring a god back from death.

Rose's expression darkened, similarly to the first time she described Gilgamesh.

"He has a Larimar."

"A what?"

Rose explained the Larimar's properties, Alm's expression paling with each word.

"A stone that can bring any living creature back from death?"

Rose nodded.

"That's how they're reviving Duma."

The gravity of the situation crashed down upon Alm, suppressing the sense of urgency he'd had before. With a god at Gilgamesh and Berkut's disposal, the fate of the world was in the palm of their hands.

"Garnet, am I wrong?"

Garnet averted her gaze, adjusting her specs nervously as if trying to unsee something.

Light footsteps moved towards them in the encroaching darkness from the direction of the fort. The milk-white face of Rinea emerged, and Rose instinctively reached for her sword.

"Peace, fair warriors," she said, raising her arms to show that there were no weapons or magic tones around her waist.

Much to Carocol's annoyance, Rose's expression softened at the gesture. If she were always that gullible around humans, she would find herself dead.

"Gilgamesh has left. I would like to offer you a night's rest in the fort."

Garnet and Alm exchanged suspicious glances. At this time, a particularly cold gust kicked up, slapping cold sand in their faces.

"Wherever it is that you are headed, you will not survive a single evening in this desert. The fort is drafty, and not quite as accommodating as an inn...but it will certainly protect you from the night."

"It's not a question of comfort," Carocol expounded. "You hail from a hostile nation, and no doubt have a repore with Gilgamesh. How do we know we can trust you?"

Carocol wasn't the only one wondering this, as the expressions on Garnet, Rose, and Alm's faces suggested. Rinea's features withered, her eyes twinkling sadly.

"Please understand that my husband, Berkut...He has a good heart."

Alm rubbed his injured shoulder in response to this.

"He only wishes to make the world a better place...I'm only now beginning to see the error of his methods…"

Her face disappeared in her hands for a moment, and when it reappeared, a newfound determination was there.

"I understand we may be on different sides of history when this is all said and done, but that doesn't mean you aren't human like us..."

This would be where Pearl would point out that she wasn't human anyway, but she was still hiding in her gem. Rose wondered if she could hear the conversation, half-wishing she was there to advise their decision.

It would certainly be easy to take the woman prisoner, what with no weapons at her disposal and nary the constitution to struggle against four able-bodied warriors. And yet the thought of doing so evoked a pang of guilt in Rose's heart.

"And is there anything you wish for in return?" Alm spoke up. Rose nodded in agreement.

"If you can," she began, her eyes leaking like a melting candle again, "if you must come into conflict with my husband, please spare his life."

"If it means saving this world from Duma's wrath," Alm said slowly, "that is a promise I'm not sure we can keep."

"Perhaps you will think differently after tonight," was all Rinea said before walking briskly back towards the fort, the sounds of sniffling carrying in the wind towards the four members of the Crystal Deliverance.

Alm shrugged, and started towards the fort.

"She's right...it's too cold and too dangerous to go anywhere tonight."

Rose nodded in silent agreement, and she and Garnet also headed in that direction without a word to Carocol.

Carocol thought about returning to Zofia Harbor and finding that old coot that would take him to the other side of the continent. He wiped what he thought to be sweat from his forehead, but upon inspecting his fingers, discovered dried blood from where Gilgamesh had struck him. Surely, if he could survive being impaled by three or so legendary weapons, he could survive a mere fortnight in a desert wasteland?

Nevertheless, the thought of a warm bed, drafty as its chamber might be, wooed him, and he found himself once again disregarding his pilgrimage in favor of sticking with his newfound friends.

When the time came, and they would confront Duma and his peons, he would not participate, but who knew when that would be?

Rinea waited for the sound of the last available bedchamber door closing before closing the door to her own. Once more, she was trapped in the lavish embrace of a room reserved for Rigelian nobility without her husband.

She had not married Berkut for the promises of luxury or glamor; she had simply fallen in love with him, like any girl of common origin might. And so on these nights, when the cabinets of the finest wines bottled in Rigel, vibrant tapestries laced with gold and silver, and exhaustive wardrobe of dresses and petticoats would fill the void left by traveling husbands, Rinea felt emptier than ever.

Not only that, but she would certainly need to explain why she had granted his enemies asylum for the night. Berkut would never berate her like he would his own men, but her faithfulness to his mission would be called into question.

How would she answer? Perhaps it was the loneliness, and the desire for company in the old place? Or the fear that they would take the place by storm anyway out of desperation? She was a clueless military tactician after all, and it would be easy for him to see how she simply made the gesture as a temporary truce in order to protect herself.

However she would explain it, she certainly couldn't let the truth escape. She had offered them asylum merely because it was the right thing to do. It sounded earnest, perhaps even just in her mind, but it would not to Berkut.

These torturous thoughts only made her more tired, and so with a final sigh, she collapsed unceremoniously on the bed. She had barely pulled her blanket up to her chin, however, before a familiar gold aura illuminated the room.

When she rolled over, however, nobody could be seen.

"And what is this, now?" came a voice from right behind her.

Rinea's heart leapt into her throat as Gilgamesh emerged from the shadows behind the bed, until he stood at the foot of it, his dragon-like eyes piercing Rinea's.

"Gilgamesh," she said, exhaling a false sigh of relief. In reality, he was the last person she wanted to see at this particular moment. "I believe I ordered you to accompany my husband back to the capital."

"That is true. And yet, I found it very easy to disobey."

Rinea puzzled over what he meant by this, until the realization sent a chill down her spine. She gazed at the back of her magic hand, only to see the command seals walled off by a layer of irritated skin.

"We must make a new pact immediately! You could very well cease to exist without the seals…"

Gilgamesh placed a hand around Rinea's heel to calm her. The sensation only filled her with more dread. What would Berkut say if Gilgamesh ceased to exist?

"You'll be happy to know I do not need your seals to remain in this world."

Rinea's nerves relaxed for a moment, but darker thoughts soon filled her head. Thoughts regarding the King of Heroes true intentions.

"Then how shall you remain?"

Gilgamesh offered a weak smile, and traveled to the bay window overlooking the surrounding canyons.

"You should know that your husband is not the man he says he is."

A stream of moonlight briefly entered the room, and Rinea noticed Gilgamesh was not dressed in his typical royal attire, but the plainclothes of a commoner.

"You dare imply you know more about my husband than myself?"

"It's far from an implication. It's the truth."

Gilgamesh flashed his reflection a knowing smile, as if he had just let it in on a terrible secret.

"Your husband is not one of the Heritors of Arcadia. He is not even next in line to take the throne."

"Liar!" Rinea shot back. "Berkut is the prince of Rigel!"

"Berkut is not."

The air drained from her lungs.

"Those seals that once cut into your hand? I'm surprised you never figured it out...They were mere forgeries."

But that couldn't be true...the scriptures she had read, an ancient volume penned by Duma himself...stated quite clearly that the Servant could not exist without the command seals.

Rinea opened her mouth to question this, but Gilgamesh's smile only grew wider, and once again Rinea had the frightening feeling that the King of Heroes was reading her mind.

"How do I exist then? It's rather simple. Someone else is in possession of the real command seals, evidently someone who is not aware of the power they possess, for they would have certainly declared themselves by this point."

In the corner of her eye, Rinea could see her reflection in a mirror on the mahogany davenport, staring wide-eyed at the gold light at the end of the bed. Gilgamesh had always made Rinea feel uneasy; perhaps it was the way he lustfully stared after her every time they met in the halls of the castle. Or perhaps it was the way her husband cowered at his feet every time he appeared.

Now, she was downright terrified.

The command seals, which she had allowed Berkut to carve in her flesh under the guidance of Rigel's best sorcerers, had been the only sense of comfort when he was around. She could make him dance if she felt like it, jump out a window, and if things turned very sour, make him kill himself.

But now, as Rinea observed the back of her hand where that source of comfort had once rested, that luxury was gone.

"Anyone can summon a Servant, master," Gilgamesh added in a voice that oozed irony. "But only wielders of the proper command seals can control one."

"But...earlier, I used a command seal to stop you…"

"True, I suppose the person or people who carved those counterfeit seals had enough magical know-how to instill a ghost of the true command seal's power within you, but only those with the proper seals can truly control a Servant.

"But I must thank you," Gilgamesh spoke softly, moving his fingers along Rinea's skin as his face hovered towards hers. "Having been brought into this world by you has made completing my objective, realizing my final goal, that much easier."

_What could that mean?_

"With Duma at my disposal, I shall eliminate humanity and establish a new world for the gods alone. Rejoice, peasant, for though your seals will not save you from death, they will save you from the hell that will surely come."

And before Rinea could even move, before she could cast a spell in self defense, Gilgamesh's Chains of Enkidu clasped around her mouth, throat, and abdomen so that she could not move.

Her eyes grew wet and puffy as a single sword appeared, so that it was suspended above her heart.

"Though this strike will effectively end your mortal life, therefore freeing me from the only contract I am restricted by, I will find a use for you."

Rinea had no time to consider what Gilgamesh meant by this, instead focusing on memories of her past life. They had been simple times, working until midnight skinning potatoes, spending weekends fishing and hunting small game, while the town's nobility traveled to the capital for a show.

These had been slow, soul-crushing days...but at least she had been alive...

Miles away, Celica awoke with a start.

Her hand was burning worse than it had the night in the graveyard, and she instinctively cast her gaze on Saber, who for once had abandoned her post and was resting against the trunk of a lanky willow tree.

Celica racked her brain, trying to remember what she had been dreaming about. She allowed her gaze to wander to the countryside, picturesque and flat under the full moon like the paintings that hung in the Novis priory.

They had happened upon this slice of heaven right as the sun met the horizon. Miles of white fencing ran parallel to the main path, separating the endless farmland from rows of brown oak trees, a welcome (and, admittedly, unusual) break from the swampland. It was the perfect break for their legs, which were strained and filthy from wading through the gloom.

But the warmth in Celica's heart at the sight had disappeared now, as her hand throbbed again and the strange scars that Saber had called "command seals" seemed to glow of their own accord.

_Alm…_

Rather than worry about her childhood friend, like she had for most of the day, Celica rested her head in the wet grass and closed her eyes, trying to ignore the searing pain as the wind whistled her into a fitful sleep.


	16. Chapter 16: Lost in the Treescape

Bismuth was the first to wake the following morning, a good three hours before the others. Celica, on account of the searing pain on the back of her hand, hadn't slept well the night before, but was sleeping so soundly Bismuth did not want to wake her.

Gems didn't need to sleep, on account of the willpower their gems provided. As far as Gem Society was aware, they were the only species in the galaxy that didn't need to sleep or eat to survive, although White Diamond, in her (supposedly) infinite wisdom had granted them the ability to do so if they chose. Bismuth had known a few Amethysts in her day that could eat like Kyanite tigers, but she had never met another gem who slept like a human.

Bismuth did not need to sleep, but she had done so anyway, as she had done each night since separating from Rose. Night was a lonely time for Bismuth. Pearl, Garnet, Tiger's Eye...Tiger's Eye's shattering had tortured Bismuth's dreams, her maligned face, that beautiful muddy brown skin of hers, crystallizing in her mind the instant she fell asleep.

Yet, it was these nightmares that made Bismuth want to sleep more, just so she could see her friend one last time. She knew it wasn't healthy, and it only contributed to the feeling of emptiness upon awakening, as the fact that she would never see Tiger's Eye again washed over her.

Bismuth had taken to repairing Celica's prized dagger in order to distract herself, something that turned out to be more challenging than she could ever have anticipated. The material that composed the blade was incredibly difficult to work with; at times, even the slightest tap with her mallet hands would fracture the blade once again, so that she had to start from scratch. It was as if the sword were resisting her, a quality she had never seen in a weapon before.

The sword was no less forgiving this morning, and by the time the surrounding country was awash in the rising sun, she'd already given up on it. Without something to fix however, her mind would quickly wander back to Tiger's Eye, or worrying thoughts about Rose, so she quickly sought another distraction. She thought about fixing Saber's...whatever it was she used in combat, but the thought of fixing something invisible was even more frustrating.

Luckily, Bismuth had noticed a few imperfections in the fence that ran parallel to the road the day before. Though her work with wood was limited, and the splinters could be rather painful, she nonetheless found it a unique challenge.

Saber found her at work on one of the brace bands, hammering as quietly as possible so as not to wake Celica.

"It's thankless work, what you do," Saber said.

"So thank me," Bismuth replied, turning and giving Saber a wry smile. It was rare that it was just the two of them, and Bismuth still had so many questions about her. Why did she wield an invisible weapon? What was her real name? What was a "servant?"

Bismuth was cognizant enough to know Saber was not one willing to give up a lot of information on herself. Celica may have been quiet, but she was honor bound by someone named "Mila" to speak freely. Saber only spoke when she was concerned for Celica's safety, and Bismuth couldn't help but compare her to Pearl.

"You're worried about your friends."

Bismuth continued to hammer away at the brace band, accidentally hitting it too hard and denting the support beam.

"They'll be fine. I'm more worried about her," she said, cocking her head in Celica's direction. "If it weren't for us, she'd be one of those zombie things right now."

She tried again to focus on the fence, but she could still feel Saber's eyes in the back of her head.

"That may be so, but I've heard you at night."

A wave of anger forced Bismuth to her feet, so that she was only inches from Saber's face.

"So what?"

Saber didn't waver.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of. It's only right you care about your friends, especially if they are the same species as you."

"It's not, though," Bismuth said, letting the anger escape through her trembling fingers. She walked the length of the fence, looking for another area that needed repair, moving quickly to get away from Saber. But Saber was dogged.

"Rose told me that humans are the most precious part of this planet. I've got no problem defending humans, but…"

_But it was the reason Tiger's Eye was gone._

"I understand your plight, Bismuth, more than you realize."

Saber seemed to struggle with herself for a moment, before taking a deep breath and continuing.

"In my past life, in the world that I come from, I was a ruler of high renown. I had to make difficult decisions for my subjects on a daily basis. Which countries to defend, which to conquer...I held so many lives in the palm of my hand. But whereas most kings would thrive under that kind of pressure, it only caused me great anguish. Soon, even successful campaigns failed to make me happy. My plight fractured so many things in my life…"

Saber gazed upon the fractured hilt of Celica's dagger as she spoke.

"I lost many great knights in those days of endless war, and though I was instructed never to pity them or their sacrifice, I did nonetheless."

The way Saber's hair seemed to flow in the breeze, the melancholic manner in how she spoke...Bismuth was reminded incredibly of Rose. And yet here stood before her a young girl, who from the sounds of it had been forced to take the crown.

"At least your subjects respected you," Bismuth said. Saber's expression darkened, still focusing on the fractured dagger.

"We should wake master. We have a lot of ground to cover, and I fear the terrain will grow more difficult again in time."

"That won't be necessary."

Celica stepped between them with a yawn, her eyes bloodshot from a lack of sleep.

"Celica, you don't look so good."

"Thanks Bismuth," she responded with a twirl of her salmon hair, a dreamy smile crossing her face. "I can always count on you to be honest with me."

"Master, if you cannot continue, we may stay h-"

"No, no," she interrupted. "You're right, we need to get going. At this rate, we won't reach Duma Tower until the end of Wyrmstym."

It certainly felt like Wyrmstym that day. Though Saber and Bismuth were immune to the cold, Celica could certainly feel it. A fuzzy layer of frost covered the ferns along the path, tickling Celica's ankles and toes. Saber and Bismuth tailed her closely, evidently looking for any signs of fatigue in her step.

Eventually the fence ended and circled around, and the farm faded from view. As Celica took one last look, however, another thought crossed her mind. If this was Rigel, where the men and women had been given barren conditions by Duma, how did a perfectly functional farm like this exist?

But by the late-afternoon, she would have her answer.

Contrary to Saber's belief, the trail remained remarkably pleasant and easy to traverse. The trail wound through lush forests, orchards teeming with fresh apples and peaches, endless meadows with flowers of all colors smiling at the trio as they passed. The air had grown considerably warmer as well, to the point where Celica removed her traveling cloak and wrapped it around her waist like a cape.

If anything put her off, it was the lack of people. No farmers, traveling mercenaries, or, thankfully, Rigelian soldiers crossed their path. To anyone else, it would be a peaceful journey, but it was in the nature of all three women to be nervous.

Around the time the sun reached its zenith, they had stumbled upon a particularly fruitful orange grove. Saber used her blade to cut up some of the fruit, spreading it on bread Celica had brought as provisions for a particularly stimulating lunch.

With a healthy lunch in her stomach, Celica's spirits lifted immensely. It started with a couple of remarks, before she and Saber found themselves talking about every sight and smell of this gorgeous expanse of countryside. They talked as if they had been friends for years, and though Saber didn't have quite the personality of Boey or Mae, Celica came to appreciate her raw, honest opinion of the surroundings. Even Bismuth, who had been silent since that morning, had a broad smile, and eagerly joined the conversation.

They learned a great deal more about her homeworld, the Diamonds, and the purpose of gemkind. Celica in return found it easy to discuss more of her background, from her days in Ram to her adolescence studying in the Novis Priory.

It was when they came across a small slice of thick woods, however, when their musings were finally interrupted. They were lost in conversation, following the path straight, when Celica began to pick up on something strange. Saber noticed it as well.

When they had first entered the wood, a lightning-struck oak tree had greeted them, its charred, leafless branches stretched to the sky in welcome. It was rare to see one lightning-struck tree, let alone two...but a second one greeted them. Then another. And another.

By the fifth time they came across the exact same kind of tree, with the same markings, same branches, same place off the side of the trail, Celica finally said something.

"Have we been walking in circles?" she said, laughing a bit.

Saber peered around, also recognizing some of the surroundings.

"It appears so…"

"That can't be, we've been walking straight!" Bismuth said. She moved up to the tree, studying the bark curiously. Her hand morphed into a scythe, which she used to cut an "X" into it.

"Let's keep walking. If we are going in circles, we'll find this exact same tree. Keep a closer eye on your surroundings."

They did so, and Celica noticed smaller paths breaking off the main one in almost every cardinal direction. Not surprisingly, three minutes later, they came across the lightning-struck oak again. The "X" was right where Bismuth had cut it.

"This can't be…" Celica whispered. She could feel some part of her mind or soul reacting to some kind of energy, but couldn't determine what it was. "Let's get out of here and go around."

But as they spun around, a wall of thick trees had sprouted up where the main path had been. Celica's pulse began to race.

"Wha…"

"Master, I do sense something strange about this place. Perhaps one of the other paths we saw will lead us out."

They took the first path they came across, a thing trail heading east that forced them to walk single file. They came upon the old oak again.

"Next one," Celica said, attempting to keep the panic out of her voice. The next path they came across led west, not quite as narrow as the first, but certainly not as wide as the main trail. This time they came across a row of zebra-like birch trees, the trail pitchforking into three different paths.

"The middle."

Upon taking the middle path, however, less than a minute had passed before they came upon the lightning-struck oak tree again.

"Gods…" Celica said, feeling dizzy. "Are we trapped here?"

"Master, you must focus. It appears the second path we took was the right one, we just need to take the right fork…"

"Or the left fork," Bismuth chimed in, in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"You're right, Saber, I'm sorry…" Celica said, shaking her head. The fatigue from that morning would've been a welcome sensation over the anxiety she felt now.

"Don't apologize, master. My only concern is getting you out of here safely."

Saber had assumed the role of bodyguard once more, which only made Celica more anxious.

Soon, however, she would be thankful as Saber pushed her to the ground, as an ebonous cloud of darkness soared through the air between them. Bismuth and Saber withdrew their weapons, focusing on the main path. Celica got to her feet and followed their gaze, still not sure if what she was staring at was a something or a someone.

It was human-like in stature, and female from the looks of it, with long, flowing hair and thin limbs. That was the only human-thing about it, however. Its body glowed with brownish-orange aura, as if it were made of lava, its eyes and mouth two thin slits of fiery light. It wasn't standing on its two feet, but floating in the air, as if an invisible ground existed beneath her. Odd, gurgling noises were coming from it, reminding Celica of the sound of boiling water.

"Celica, get behind me," Saber said urgently, placing the back of her arm on Celica's chest.

"Don't be ridiculous, if that creature has magic you're at a significant disadvantage."

Saber prepared to protest, but another creature emerged on the path as well. In the canopy behind them came another gurgling noise.

The odd percolating of the creatures was soon drowned out by another dreaded noise; a swarm of stone gray gargoyles, screeching and descending into the woods all around them, scythes clutched in their talons. One appeared to be a marine-blue color, its muscles far more pronounced than the other gargoyles. Its scythe appeared a good two inches longer than the others as well.

To Celica's amazement and horror, the creature spoke in a gravelly, sinister voice.

"Find...priestess...bring...blood...to...me…"

"Why do you wish for my master?" Saber demanded, pointing her figurative weapon in the demon's direction.

"Find...priestess…" the creature repeated in the exact same tone. One of the gargoyles behind Celica attempted a surprise attack, but Bismuth was ready. Her hands morphed into twin mallets, which she used to spike the winged creature into the ground. The opening shot had been fired, and the gargoyles were upon them.

Saber and Bismuth locked blades with two of them, while two others attempted to wrap their talons around Celica's shoulders. She managed to stun one of them with a seraphim spell, the light enough to light the creature's wings on fire, but the other's talons began to pierce her skin, so that she cried out in pain…

There was the grotesque sound of blade meeting flesh, as Saber skewered the creature's head, and it crumpled to the Earth in a bloody heap. Celica could see that Saber had already taken two other gargoyles down.

"Are you alright ma-"

A spell of unknown composition struck Celica in the side of the head, sending her tumbling through a bed of fallen leaves. The sounds of battle grew distant, for a loud ringing drowned out all other noise.

There was a pressure on her back, and she was lifted into the air. Her hearing returned just in time to be deafened by the lead gargoyle's cry of triumph.

"Celica!" Bismuth shouted, but she was already attempting to ward off two gargoyles. To make matters worse, two of the strange humanoid beings were firing dark magic at her, so that every time she had an opening on the gargoyles, she was forced to evade instead.

Celica continued to rise up...up...until they were level with the canopy. Even if she were to wrestle from the creature's iron grip, the fall would have shattered her legs at the very least.

There was a flash of golden light, and Celica caught a glimpse of Saber soaring towards them. In the brief moment, she saw that her invisible weapon had been given form, resembling a sword. The creature hissed and lessened its grip on Celica, a sense of peril seizing her heart. In a stroke of either sheer courage or recklessness, Celica let loose a bolt of fire in the creature's eyes. It roared and let go immediately, sending Celica plummeting to the woods below.

She heard Saber call her name one last time before she closed her eyes, waiting for the crash. Waiting for the end…

But it never came.

The air had become strangely still, and when Celica braved opening her eyes, she found that she was hovering inches above the ground, as if a great hand had snatched her out of midair.

The sounds of battle had also grown quiet, and Celica could see monsters and allies alike focusing on a tall, aloof figure at the end of the path. A bright blue light emanated from the end of the figure's staff. Upon closer inspection, Celica realized the same light had enveloped her body. The force of the spell righted her body, so that she landed gently on her feet.

"Foul demons, let Mila's divine protection drive you from this land!"

The three mysterious apparitions let out shrieks of terror, and moved at blinding speed into the trees and out of sight. The gargoyles, however, would not back down. With speed impossible for any other winged creature, the lead gargoyle swooped down from the canopy with a ghastly howl. Just as the monster's scythe made to decapitate the mysterious figure, however, a translucent barrier of pure white light surrounded the man. There was a metallic _clang _as the gargoyle's scythe bounced off the holy barrier, and before it had time for a followup attack a bolt of lightning emerged from the man's spear and pierced the monster's heart.

Celica felt a lighter set of talons around her back, and so rolled over and swung her blade with all its might. The blow narrowly missed connecting with Bismuth's eyes.

"Relax kid, it's just me."

"What about Saber?"

Bismuth snickered.

"She's more than a match for them."

And by the time she had ascertained Saber's whereabouts, a pile of winged corpses lay before her. She pointed her golden blade at the figure on the trail.

"Reveal yourself, mage."

The figure approached them, not showing any signs of trepidation even with a blade pointed at his chest.

"You may lower your sword, King of Knights. I mean no harm."

This had the opposite effect, for Saber's features had contorted into an expression of absolute contempt, and she took an offensive stance.

"How is it you know my true identity? Answer me, or be struck down!"

A ray of sunlight emerged from the overcast sky, revealing the figure to be an elderly man. He wore a plain set of maroon robes, a teal gemstone the exact same color and size of the one powering his staff, hanging from a necklace. Though his features were wrinkly and brittle, his expression was stern and disarming.

"You have travelled long and far, heroes. Our long awaited meeting has come at last, though I must admit I was only expecting the daughter of Mila and her faithful servant."

The man regarded Bismuth with a vague expression.

"But you are here regardless, and so it shall be."

"Just tell us who you are, old-timer, or the next thing that'll go through your mind will be my fist!"

"I am Halcyon, a follower of Duma."

"That's all we needed to hear," Celica said, raising her blade as a silent order for the others to strike him down.

"If that's true, then why did I save you?" Halcyon said without flinching.

This much was true, but Celica's armor and robes gave her away as a daughter of Mila. Why would a follower from the enemy sect want to save her?

"Explain yourself."

Halcyon cleared his throat.

"As I explained, I am a follower of Duma. I will explain all in due time, including why you are here, but we must not do it here. The vestals you encountered will surely alert their tribe."

"Vestals?"

"Those humanoid beings you encountered. They are foul creatures, born when priestesses offer their souls as tribute to Duma. And one of the many reasons I am no longer high priest."

There were too many warning flags going off in Celica's mind for her not to cut the man down where he stood, but her desire for information was far more powerful.

"You were the High Priest of the Duma Faithful?"

"I will explain," the man repeated. "Come, I will lead you out of this treescape and to the Sage's Hamlet."

And so, without any other choice, the trio followed the enigmatic old man, as he effortlessly lead the way through the endless forks in the road, Saber frowning in silent protest the entire way.


	17. Chapter 17: Sage's Hamlet

**Aboard the Aegis Hand**

"So let me get this straight, you're jus' gonna wait 'ere and let the Diamonds clean up your mess?"

It took all of Jasper's fortitude to keep her from strangling the little gem. However, it was becoming rather difficult to complete the casualty report with trembling fingers.

"Yes," she said. She felt a light weight on her shoulder, and the soft noise of watery wingbeats indicated Aquamarine had landed there. She simply stared as Jasper checked box after box of gem soldier in Pink's entourage that had been reported missing. The longest list, those gems that had been destabilized but not shattered, was all that was left, but that would take the longest.

"Well, I thought you quartzes were dullards, but I suppose you're cowards instead."

Jasper was unable to stop herself from grabbing at the persistent gem in her ear, but she managed to lift herself in the air just in time.

"Listen here, you pebble, you're not going to trick me into disobeying a direct order from the Diamonds. I'm no Amethyst."

"Amethysts, Jaspers, Rose Quartzes...it doesn't matter to me," Aquamarine sneered, Jasper reflected in her beady eyes. "You're all expendable in my opinion. If I were Yellow Diamond, I would've put you to use in a Kindergarten, not on the front lines with the real soldiers."

"And if I were Blue Diamond, I wouldn't have some snobby noble on the front lines!"

Aquamarine stuck her tongue out and flew up into the dark rafters of the ship, her high-pitched giggling echoing throughout the ship in the dusty silence.

"Brat," Jasper muttered under her breath, hoping her voice had followed Aquamarine up into the rafters. It was time to move onto the final list. After completing casualty reports for gems shattered (4), and gems missing (15), Jasper was shocked to see only 16 gems remained.

"How could one Rose Quartz do all of this?" she said to herself. Rose Quartzes, though Pink's prized soldiers and lethal in combat, wouldn't stand a chance against an entire platoon of elite Citrines, Jaspers, and...other Rose Quartzes. There was no way she had defeated every gem…impossible, in fact!

But as each gem flashed into view, and Jasper compared it with the casualty report in hand, all 16 of the remaining gems indeed had been destabilized in the attack. Jasper wondered if a second gem had been involved in the attack; after all, this particular Rose Quartz had an entire band of rebels behind her. They called themselves something ridiculous, like the "Crystal Rocks" or something along those lines, and up until Pink's shattering their activities had been rather innocuous. They ranged from such things as verbally harassing visiting Sapphires to throwing rocks at quartz soldiers as they worked.

The only gems known to be under her employ were Pink's former Pearl, a grotesque gem fusion, a Bismuth, and a Tiger's Eye Jasper that Jasper herself had shattered. That amounted to five gems, still barely enough to rival a Diamond entourage, let alone a full Quartz platoon. Not to mention, Jasper had destroyed the other Jasper only a fortnight before Pink's shattering, which left her with four gems. Factor in the reports that Bismuth was active in the southeast, the complete opposite end of the continent where Pink was at the time, and Rose was left with only the Pearl and the fusion.

Jasper always had the sense the Diamonds kept things from her, especially Pink. It had nothing to do with Jasper's ranking; Aquamarine also was left out of many of the Diamond's secret sessions and decisions, something that bothered her to no end, even if she denied it. Now, Jasper was feeling this suspicion tenfold. Surely, Yellow would've assigned at least a platoon of Quartzes to hunt down Rose; why in the stars were they being ordered to return to base? Why was Jasper being given the busywork Aquamarine typically did? Why were they letting the most notorious gem criminal of all time walk?!

Her musings were interrupted by a tiny droplet of cool water on her cheek.

"If your wings drip on me one more time…"

"Hey, that wasn't me! This ship's ceiling is leaking. What were the Diamonds thinking, giving us a shoddy little base like this…"

"Don't question the Diamond's decisions," Jasper said, realizing how ironic that statement was.

"Aw, c'mon Jasper," Aquamarine cooed, descending until she was level with Jasper's head. "Even you have to wonder what the Diamonds are thinking. There's nothing wrong with that, it's not like they can 'ear you."

"Be quiet," Jasper growled.

"No, I don't take orders from you, remember? And besides, you know I'm right. I can tell you want to be out there in the field with your crew, hunting down the wicked gem who did this."

"Rose Quartz."

"Yes, her. Surely you want to crush her gem like you crushed that traitorous Jasper's...It would bring you closure..."

"I guess it would," Jasper said, as she finally clicked the transmission icon at the bottom left corner of the screen. The image of the 35 casualty gems disappeared, but only a few seconds later another required document popped up. Jasper groaned; how did Aquamarines and Peridots do this all day?

"You know, we do have..._that."_

Jasper spun around, pointing at Aquamarine's tiny frame.

"What do you mean by _that?"_

Aquamarine reached for her hair, so that Jasper thought she was reaching for her wand.

"Relax," Aquamarine said impatiently as Jasper adopted a defensive stance. She pulled a small black chip out of her hair. A single pink diamond shape, the insignia of Pink Diamond, was depicted boldly on the front.

"What is that?" Jasper said, suspicion lowering her voice to a whisper

"The Diamonds use these to keep tabs on the locations of all of their gems."

"All of them?!"

Aquamarine sighed.

"Yes, all of them," she repeated with her hands on her hips. "Court gems, quartzes, guards, even her Pearl."

Jasper, with an agility not even she herself thought she was capable of, snatched the little blue gem out of the air and slammed her against the monitor. The screen went fuzzy for a second, and a red message bubble appeared warning her that she risked losing all of her current progress, but Jasper didn't care.

"How did you get this?" Jasper screamed, as Aquamarine wiggled and squirmed, desperately trying to catch her breath.

"It...doesn't...matter," Aquamarine choked out. "Do...you wanna find...Rose Quartz or not…"

As the power of the chip suddenly became apparent to Jasper, she loosened her grasp on the little blue gem, who finally shook free. She kicked at Jasper's index finger furiously until she had to catch her breath.

"You...stupid...quartz! What was that for? Hey!"

Jasper ripped the chip out of Aquamarine's grip, scanning the modem for any signs of a Diamond chip reader until finally, her eyes found it between the ship's steering and the manual keyboard (it truly was an old ship).

She jammed it in, and the familiar, calming sound of Pink Diamondsong filled the silence of the ship. A bright pink aura erupted from the drive, growing brighter and brighter until finally, a Pearl's voice came through.

"Welcome to the gem profile of Pink Diamond. Please enter the appropriate passcode within the next 30 seconds, or this chip will self-destruct."

There was an eerie beeping noise, and the number 30 appeared, making the same beeping noise with every second wasted. Jasper put her hands on her head. Already, the ship's console was beginning to reek with the odor of burning chromium.

"I told you I had the file. I didn't say I knew how to get in…"

"What!?"

Jasper would likely have struck the little gem down where she stood, had the same Pearl's voice not reminded her that she had only 25 seconds left.

"Try 98765, I recall she used that for the Communicators on the Moonbase."

"That's ridiculous, who would use a code like th-"

"20 seconds."

Jasper desperately typed it in. To her amazement, there was a quick _bong _and a list of gem identifiers appeared on the screen.

"Told you," Aquamarine said, smirking, but Jasper ignored her.

"What was Rose's facet?"

"I don't know, but I'm pretty sure she was made on Earth. There weren't many Roses made here, so that should limit your search."

Aquamarine landed on Jasper's shoulder, hoping the bouncing motion that resulted from her feverish typing would massage her back. Instead, Jasper flicked her off, and even this small amount of force was enough to send Aquamarine sailing to the other end of the ship. As she came to a stop, prepared to unleash another tongue-lashing, Jasper uttered a monstrous roar that would've made the Diamonds quiver, and slammed her fist down on the console.

"There were no Rose Quartzes on Earth!" she bellowed, glaring viciously at Aquamarine.

"That's impossible...I know for sure she was incubated here. Alright, look..." she said, holding her arms out protectively as Jasper rounded on here. "Look up her Pearl."

Jasper cocked her head.

"Wouldn't Rose have told her to remove it?"

"Not likely. Rose isn't aware of the chip in Pearl's gem. Very few gems are. Even I'm lucky to know what it is, but that's what happens when you're Blue Diamond's favorite…"

Jasper roared impatiently again.

"That won't work! We don't even know if Pearl is still with her."

"You quartzes," Aquamarine sighed, shaking her head. "Even Pearls who rebel against their masters are highly dependent on other gems. If Rose Quartz is the leader of those 'Crystal Gems' or whatever, Pearl will be by her side at all times.

"Oh, just find her already!" she said with a furious flap of her wings.

As Pink Diamond's Pearl was the first gem to come up, it only took a few moments. A grid of the continent Valentia appeared, but at first there was no indication of the Pearl's location. Aquamarine flinched, preparing for Jasper to lash out again, but finally there was a quick _blip _and a single dot appeared in the northwestern quadrant.

"There you are…" Jasper muttered to herself, smiling for the first time in weeks. "And you're sure Rose is with her?"

"Positive."

"Good, then I'm off."

"W-wait!"

The door to the ship opened, Wyrmtsym breathing its cold, dry air through the Jasper-sized opening, but as she prepared to step out Aquamarine flew in front of her.

"You know I was just messing around, right? I mean, do you have any idea what the Diamonds would do to you if they found out you disobeyed a direct order?"

Jasper wrapped her traveling cloak tighter around her head and torso, so only two fiery eyes were visible

"You're right, Aquamarine...But you were also right before, when you said I was a coward? Pink Diamond was my Diamond. From the moment I broke free of this miserable planet's crust, I dedicated my life to her service. We may not have seen eye-to-eye when it came to this planet's worth, but it doesn't matter. I was made to serve her...and if she's not here to give orders, than all I have left to do is to avenge her."

"The Diamonds will harvest you, if you're lucky. In the mood Yellow's in, you'd probably be shattered on the spot without a trial!"

But the thought of a battle-hardened quartz like her, standing next to some irritable Zircon in a dusty trial chamber that would give the wrecked Aegis Hand a run for its Homeworld Credits, was trivial to both of them.

Aquamarine's lips uncurled, and her wings suddenly began to flap with greater fervor; Jasper knew what the gem was thinking.

"You're gonna tell them anyway, aren't you?"

"Well, of course! I want to be the favorite. Don't take it personally, just run along now!"

Jasper smirked, pounding her fist into the little gem's chest, so that she gasped as the wind was knocked out of her.

"I didn't expect anything less," Jasper said as she disappeared into the angry light of the setting sun. Aquamarine clutched her throat, and watched the figure grow more and more distant, until the ship door finally closed again.

"Well, I may have been wrong about her being a coward…" Aquamarine began as she finally caught her breath, searching her person for her Diamond Communicator. "But she's still a dullard."

**Lost Treescape**

"Don't trust this guy, kid," Bismuth said for what was certainly the hundredth time. A light flurry of snow commenced as they took the last few forks out of the confusing wood, Celica's toes growing increasingly numb and wet as she trudged through the thickening layer of snow.

Celica still wasn't sure whether or not she agreed with Bismuth. Halcyon hadn't joined in the assault with the other fiends of Duma's domain, like one would expect of a Duma Faithful. Yet, the woodland was growing more dense as they walked, so that they were surrounded by a world of dull brown and white. Was he leading them into a trap?

As they reached what felt like the heart of the forest, and the canopy couldn't get any more oppressive, the blanket of trees retracted, revealing a small village in the midst of a spacious forest clearing.

The cabins and houses, though thatch-roofed and composed of mere branches, stones, and mud, were homely and plump like pumpkins, the cozy glow of a fireplace escaping their windows. Snow and ice coated the roofs like frosting, but long tongues of smoke kept the snow from accumulating around the chimneys. There were only a few residents wandering about when the trio and their guide arrived, but upon seeing the outsiders, all conversation and commerce came to a halt, as they stared at their new visitors as uneasily as the trio stared back at them. Celica noticed how all the men wore pointed hats associated with magecraft. The women's faces barely visible from beneath their burkas.

"Wait here," Halcyon growled. He wandered into the square, where the intricately painted design of the sun smiled up at him from what remained of the mosaic street that wasn't covered in snow. The painted sun's rays stretched in nearly every cardinal direction, except, strangely enough, the two entrances of the village.

"These outsiders mean no harm. Please show them the proper courtesy"

This seemed to placate the gathered crowd, although a couple of the men continued to stare at Bismuth in particular, as if not sure what to make of her gaudy, long hair.

"Enjoying the view?" Bismuth called out to the men, who blushed and quickly resumed pushing their wheelbarrows of potatoes. "I don't like the vibe here. I feel like a Sapphire among Quartzes."

Celica didn't get the chance to ask Bismuth what a Sapphire or a Quartz were, for Halcyon was already beckoning them to enter a cabin only a few feet from the mosaic sun.

"In," he said simply, and the trio, with seemingly no other choice, followed.

It felt as if they had stepped inside a madman's apothecary. The shelves were overflowing with vials containing the severed limbs and wings of woodland creatures, making bile creep into Celica's throat. Pages and scrolls containing grotesque images of screaming men and women, realistic (far too realistic) images of animal and human organs, and the properties of plants were scattered amongst the floor. A fire had already been started in the wood stove at the back of the room, but upon closer inspection there didn't appear to be any wood where the fire was raging.

"Excuse me," Halcyon said, and the trio moved further into the home so that he could open a trapdoor beneath the threshold, revealing a staircase downHe disappeared for a few minutes, leaving the three in a warm, though anything but cozy, silence. Halcyon returned with a tray of glasses with an unsettling purple liquid in them, offering them to his guests.

"No," Celica and Saber said in unison, but Bismuth eagerly grabbed one and threw it back before the others could stop her.

"Mmm, that's good," she said. Celica shook her head; had it not been Bismuth, who only a little while before had warned her not to trust him?

"Relax, it's not poison," Halcyon assured Celica. "It's Sage's Brandy, a specialty around here. It'll warm you."

"I've never heard of a purple brandy before," Saber muttered, though she took a glass from the tray and drank anyway.

"You'll learn that things are different here in Sage's Hamlet."

Celica's mind raced.

"Sage's Hamlet?! You're telling me this is Sage's Hamlet, the place where Duma and Mila founded Valentia?"

"The very one," Halcyon said with a wink. "Though I'm surprised a well-trained priestess such as yourself wasn't able to deduce that on the journey here."

He laughed at the mingled expression of confusion and indignation on Celica's face.

"Come now. Were you not put off by the lush countryside? Did you not realize you were lost in the mythical Lost Treescape?"

Celica would have eagerly recited the legend about the Sage's Hamlet, except that as it ran through her mind, another more pressing question had come up.

"Sage's Hamlet is said to only appear to those with an inexorable connection to Mila or Duma. How is it that I am here?"

"I shall explain. Please, sit."

With a wave of his staff, the clutter covering the table in the center of the room returned to their shelves. Celica's legs bounced against the bottom of the table as she waited for Halcyon to begin, and after he took a lengthy draught of his brandy, he cleared his throat and did so.

"As you surely already know, Mila and Duma once served the almighty Naga, leader of the Divine Dragons. However, when Duma waged war on Naga, both were expelled from their homeland, eventually forced to settle on the continent we now call Valentia. Having fought by Duma's side, Mila was fiercely loyal to her brother in the dawning days of the continent.

"However, as she grew older, she grew to resent Duma's obsession with war and hardship. Their clashes would eventually lead to them splitting the continent, Mila founding Zofia with the ideals of peace and Duma founding Rigel with the ideals of war. Despite their differences and the creation of two different nations, both understood that one could never overpower the other, lest they become as oppressive as Naga had been.

"As a safeguard, Mila proposed the idea of the Heritors of Arcadia, Arcadia being the legendary domain where only the Gods dwell. The Heritors would have no trace of divine blood, no connection to either God; they would simply be humans who represented their qualities best. It would be their responsibility to slay the overpowering God, thus saving the continent from certain annihilation. These pacts, along with the creation of Zofia and Rigel as the two official nations of Rigel, would make up the Divine Accord."

Celica chanced a sip of her brandy, and was surprised at how delicious it was. She had never had a sip of alcohol before, however, and wished to avoid the consequences of over drinking in the vicinity of someone she still didn't trust.

"Yes, I've studied the tale many times, Halcyon," Celica said with an air of superiority, for his comments from earlier still stung. "The Heritors were chosen in the subsequent war that the two Gods waged, thus saving the continent and allowing the two to join the soil of their respective nations-"

"Unfortunately, that is not entirely accurate," Halcyon interrupted, and Celica's face turned a deep shade of red. "You are recounting only Mila's telling of the legend. But I have dedicated myself to Duma's teachings, and his input sheds more light on the tale…"

"You would trust Duma's account over Mila's?" Celica replied indignantly. "Duma is a tyrant, who willingly plunges his subjects into poverty. Why trust anything that madman says?"

"Why trust anything Mila says, when she spoils her subjects and allows herself to become a mere symbol?"

The stool Celica had been sitting on flew across the room as she ferociously got to her feet. To Bismuth's surprise, Saber followed suit.

"How dare you insult the Earth Mother! I would think spoiling my subjects would be a far better fate than leaving them to fight one another over a scrap of corn! Or entertaining myself by starving them!""

Halcyon beckoned for them to resume sitting, and calmly took another long gulp of brandy.

"Perhaps it would surprise you to know that I agree."

It did, but not enough to placate Celica. Saber did sit, although she did not take her eyes off the old mage.

"Truth is sadly subjective in this time and age. What's true for one person is fiction for another. When we think we are doing good, we believe everything we say is the truth, even if it isn't. Who is to say Mila is immune from that? Duma certainly isn't."

Celica reluctantly took her seat, though her extremities were still trembling.

"One must look through both perspectives to get the full account of the legend. Mila's account places the Heritors during the ancient war. Duma's account, however, states that the Heritors still have not been chosen. I am inclined to believe the latter account…"

"Naturally," Celica interrupted.

"Then allow me to ask," Halcyon continued patiently. "If the Heritors had truly come into being during the ancient war, how is it that both Duma and Mila continue to control their lands? Were the Heritors not destined to inherit their connection to Arcadia, and exist in the stead of the Gods?"

Celica's expression remained steadfast, even though doubt was beginning to trickle in. She took another sip of brandy, using the brief moment to collect her thoughts.

"But why would Mila lie?"

"As I am not a student of the goddess, I wouldn't hazard a guess, lest I test your temper again."

Celica shook her head and took another sip of brandy.

"I think it would be safe to surmise that Mila has always cared deeply about the safety of her subjects?"

Bismuth winced, prepared for another outburst from Celica.

"For once, you assume correct."

"And would it not comfort Mila's disciples to know the ancient feud is over, even if it isn't?"

"Are you implying Mila lied to give us the illusion of safety?"

"Excuse me, I'm a bit warm, gonna step outs-"

"Sit, Bismuth," Saber said without taking her eyes off Halcyon, as the gem tried to shuffle outdoors. Bismuth complied slowly, rubbing her head.

"Precisely," Halcyon answered Celica.

Another uneasy silence. Celica could see now there was no way to shake the man's beliefs; he was a disciple of Duma. She was a disciple of Mila. It would be impossible to find a common ground.

"You mentioned you were once Duma's High Priest. Why aren't you anymore?"

"That is a long tale, one that delves into the very heart of the human spirit. I see, however, that you will not be dissuaded, so I will keep it short."

Halcyon finished his brandy, cleared his throat, and spoke thus:

"Though I am no longer his high priest, Duma's teachings are ingrained in my very soul. It is not the easy path that leads to greatness, but the one that challenges them. The path that chips away at the person like a pickaxe, until they are in their perfect form."

"Yeesh, sounds like something Yellow Diamond would say…" Bismuth interjected, wiping her chin as a thin dribble of brandy ran down it. Halcyon gave her a strange look, before clearing his throat again and continuing.

"But I have never condoned warfare to reach that end. I have never condoned famine, pestilence, disease as a required hardship to reach greatness. Though it pains me to say it, Duma has lost his way. He's become a caricature of himself, and as his High Priest, it was my duty to remind him of the values he had once ingrained in me. In every citizen of Rigel. Instead, I was deposed."

"By who?" Saber asked.

"The royal family of Rigel."

"Blasphemy!" Celica exclaimed. "The crown has no place in holy affairs."

"It matters not, for it was Duma's will. And I, his most loyal retainer, had no choice but to obey," he finished bitterly, gazing solemnly out the snowed-in window.

A warm prickle of pity found its way through Celica's heart.

"Since then the crown prince of Rigel, Berkut, has acted as the de facto High Priest. He's even gone so far as to incorporate the Faithful into his own military, and rumors are swirling that he is planning a massive invasion of Zofia.

"This," he said, a dramatic inflection in his voice, "brings me to the legend of the Heritors once more."

"How so?"

"As Duma's Account, Book IV, Thesis XI, Paragraph III states, the Heritors would be tasked with removing the Gods from the physical realm, therefore inheriting and maintaining the connection between our continent and Arcadia. Mila's Account, Book III, Thesis VIII, Paragraph III, however, states that this task alone would be impossible. Thus, when the Heritors would be decided, they would be granted three magical seals of immense power, and a contract with a powerful spirit with power equal to the Gods."

Halcyon's eyes immediately landed on the three marks on Celica's hand. She retracted her hand within her cloak instinctively. He turned his attention to Saber, seated to her right.

"Explain how you two came into contact, Celica."

Instead, Celica took a long sip of brandy and averted her eyes from the table, taking particular interest in a jar of bat wings above Halcyon's bed.

"Allow me," Saber said. "My master's magical seals were activated in response to a sensation of overwhelming danger. I heeded her call, verbal or not, and came into being in order to protect her."

"I see," said Halcyon, studying Saber as if she were one of the grotesque specimens in his jars. "You refer to the girl as master."

"Yes, for I am her Servant."

For a moment, the table was silent again. Then, Halcyon did something very strange. He stood up and moved over to Celica, placing a hand on her shoulder, tears forming in his eyes all the way.

"In 60 years of service, I never thought it would be me who would bear witness to a Heritor of Arcadia."

Celica flinched and got to her feet.

"You're mad…"

But the man followed her, his skin at once pale but his face an impassioned red.

"You...must be mistaken…I...I am merely a traveling priestess," Celica said, backing away from the man, reaching for her sword. I am making a pilgrimage to the Tower."

"Confront your destiny, my dear. You have the seals of the Heritor, you have the Servant of a Heritor...you, Celica, are one of the Heritors of Arcadia."

Celica felt every muscle, every vein, every gasp of air in her chest seize. It was something nearly everyone on the continent of Valentia dreamed about. Something young boys and girls would fantasize about at night, being the hero of their own storybook. Even Celica, who had been taught to forsake all semblance of greed, would imagine herself in that position in her younger days.

But now, standing in the midst of a town that wasn't supposed to exist, with the realization that she would need to do something near impossible, those childhood dreams had become a nightmare. The world had never seemed so fragile, so fleeting.

"But...but summoning a spirit is no outstanding feat. I've met many holy men who can invoke spirits…"

"True, but those spirits are illusory. They have no compass, no mind to guide their actions. But you...you have summoned a hero of legend. That is magic that only a God can grant."

Celica didn't know what to think. Right now, she wished Boey or Mae were here, to either pump her up or console her. Neither would likely have been much help, for the sheer reality of what her life and her journey had come to mean was still overwhelming, but it would be far more comforting than the look of sheer bewilderment on Bismuth's face and Saber's indifference.

"I...I…" she stuttered.

"I am a bit disappointed, however, for the sword is believed to be associated with Mila, representing purity, honor...The servant of the bow is associated with Duma. Thus, it appears you are Mila's chosen Heritor."

From the sound of it, Halcyon had been hoping to meet Duma's Heritor instead, but Celica couldn't have cared less about his apparent disappointment.

"Uh...may want to lay off that 'Heritor' stuff for a while, chief," Bismuth said, concern etched on her face. "You...gonna be okay kid?"

"Master, if I had known this was our shared destiny, I would have shared it with you immediately," Saber said. "I apologize if this is a lot to take in."

Celica tried to speak, but her throat had gone dry. The taste of brandy was heavy and sticky in her mouth, as every muscle was tense and charged.

"There is also the need to discuss the other Heritor's identity. If I am correct, it is someone who will be quite close to you."

A single thought broke through: the image she had seen in the Mindful Mire. A similar marking on the boys hand, one that they would laugh about in front of the fire. Back then, it didn't mean anything; it was a strange coincidence, if anything. But now...

"Alm," she finally choked out.


	18. Chapter 18: Princess Anthiese

It took the entire glass of brandy to placate Celica's nerves, and even then the fire still hadn't returned to her eyes.

"So, this guy Alm that you know...is actually one of these 'Heritors?'" Bismuth asked. She hadn't taken her eyes off Celica up until now, and of the four people in the small, cramped cabin, was the only one not displaying any emotion.

"Is that his name? Sir Mycen's grandson?"

"You know Sir Mycen?" Celica said, the mention of her grandpapa giving her a shot of energy.

Tears appeared in Halcyon's eyes again.

"Oh, little one, I have not been very forthcoming…and it must remain that way."

Celica moved to the single window, where the snow had stopped falling. That very morning, she, Saber, and Bismuth were enjoying the endless views of the Sage's countryside. Three women on a pilgrimage, and though there was a level of responsibility, things to accomplish, there was room to smile, to breathe air.

Now, every breath she took felt like her last. It didn't help that the stale cabin air, mingled with the nauseating aroma of Halcyon's concoctions and ingredients, forced her to constrict her nostrils every time she inhaled.

There came a muffled cry from outside, and a couple of children emerged from one of the cabins, using their guiding flames to trace dragons and shapes in the snow. If what Halcyon said was true, and it was hard to argue that it wasn't, then their lives, and the lives of every child on the continent, would be in her hands.

"Alm and I are the Heritors…" Celica breathed, more to break the awkward silence. She wondered if Alm was aware of the destiny that lay before him. Knowing Alm, he would rise to the challenge; he always did. But could she do the same?

She looked down at her hands, which had conjured magic, healed her friends, wielded swords...They had carried food, beverage, scriptures, and in younger days had been stained in mud, grass, perhaps her own blood if she were careless. Now, something far greater, far more fearsome resided in them; a destiny impossible to bear.

"There is a third Heritor as well," Halcyon said as Celica sat down. Celica found herself laughing wryly at this revelation. It was a ridiculous claim, but she didn't have the energy to challenge it.

"How is that possible?" Saber asked. "There are only two deities on this continent."

"You are correct, servant. Mila and Duma are the ones who pull the strings on this continent. However, Naga herself inadvertently played a part in its creation. Naturally, when word came to her that her former generals were feuding, she traveled here in an attempt to reconcile their differences…"

"It was Naga who drove them away in the first place," Celica interrupted.

"That may be true, but despite her ideological differences with Mila and Duma, Naga had a strong heart. But by the time she arrived to Valentia, the ancient war had already commenced."

"How do you know all this?" Celica asked. And how could Nomah have withheld all of this information from her?

Halcyon stood up, wincing with the effort of putting weight on his old bones, and retrieved a book on a shelf across the room. Nearly all of the old mage's books were patchy, covered in dust, but the volume Halcyon picked up was in almost perfect condition, as if it had only been read once or twice.

"Naga's Account," he said, wiping the trace amounts of dust off the cover. "The only copy in Valentia."

It was a simple book, bound by a dull navy-blue material with the image of a dragon on the cover, only half the size of Mila's account, and a quarter the size of Duma's account (which Celica had never read, but seen in book trader's tents during festivals). For such an elusive title, it was hardly extraordinary.

"It may not look like much, but it sheds a great deal of light on areas that both Duma and Mila left out of their own accounts. Including more information on the Heritors."

He opened it and flipped through, until he reached one of the last pages.

"Here it is, the passage on the Third Heritor:

_And whence Mila and Duma rejoined the soil of their new domains, I saw it fit to create the third. And it was on the largest island in the southernmost sea that I created the first of what will be many of my children. And I determined that, to assist the Twin Heritors in the time when they will be awakened, a third shall join them with a balanced set of ideals. And this Heritor will be One who does not seek glory through kindness or strife, but his own designs. And he will join the Twin Heritors on the battlefield, when the time comes, to remove the divine influence from this land."_

Halcyon closed the book and returned it to the shelf.

"Unfortunately, I know as much as you about who the Third Heritor could be. The only information Naga provided about the Third Heritor is what I have just recited."

Celica's head was spinning, and she was hesitant to stand.

"Please, stay the night in the Hamlet. There is an inn that will more than suit your needs."

Saber and Bismuth moved to the door, a cold breeze sweeping through the cabin as it opened. Celica reluctantly got to her feet and followed. Her guiding flame had grown noticeably dim in the cold, so she closed her eyes, focusing on the magical circuits in her mind, molding them in the shape of a flame.

As she did, however, the circuits slowly came undone. They connected and intertwined, tracing the shape of a familiar face…

"Celica!?"

It was Alm's voice, terrified, pained...Celica tried to force her eyes open, but couldn't. They were petrified, as were her vocal cords. She could do nothing.

"Celica!"

Celica's eyes shot open. She was staring up at the ceiling of Halcyon's cabin, Bismuth and Saber standing over her. Something acrid was dribbling down her throat, but she didn't even have the energy to retch.

"Relax, young one, you've simply been communing…"

Halcyon was waving his staff over Celica's head, cobalt snakes of energy emerging from it like worms from an apple. In the middle of these streams of energy, Celica could make out Alm's features. Celica felt dizzy again, and must've shown some signs of it, for Bismuth began tipping the sour concoction down her throat again.

"Wait," Halcyon said. Bismuth glared at the man.

"I don't care if she's 'communing' or whatever, we're not gonna lay on your anvil!" she shouted.

"Celica…" he said, ignoring Bismuth. "Did you see Alm?"

Celica used what little strength she had to nod.

"Can you tell where he is?"

"He was...screaming...my name," she whispered.

"Let her go under again," he said to Bismuth.

"She's not fit to 'go under,' look at her!"

Saber's gaze, however, shifted between Halcyon's staff and Celica, torn between wanting to know more and preserving her master's health.

"She cannot face Duma alone! We must find Alm! Celica, concentrate all of your mana. Let it commune with Alm's; that will lead you to where he is."

Celica shuddered and nodded, though she had no idea how to do that. Bismuth looked fit to burst, but Saber put a calming hand on her shoulder. Their concerned faces swam in her vision, until the world was dark. Alm's face instantiated the same way it had before, screaming her name over and over, until her ears began to ring.

_Where are you, Alm? _Celica thought, in an attempt to communicate. _How do I find you?_

As if in response, her guiding flame appeared to her left, slowly floating toward the distorted face like a moth drawn to a lamp. Suddenly, she felt herself being launched forward. Alm's face and the surrounding darkness lifted, and without any explanation, she was falling from the sky and towards the continent below.

The cold, blustery air assaulted her skin until it felt like it was covered in gashes. Every breath felt as if it would impale her lungs. Someone was screaming...was it her?

The land drew closer, closer, but still she was falling, perhaps even faster than before. She closed her eyes, waiting for the impact…

In a moment of deja vu, Celica found her body suspended above the Earth, only this time she could feel something, or someone, holding her there. She opened her eyes, to see that the person who caught her was none other than Alm.. He looked just like he had in the Mindful Mire, smiling warmly at her.

"Alm, I…"

"Celica? Is that you?"

The voice sounded like Alm's, but his lips had not moved.

"Alm, can you hear me?" she said, waving her hand in front of Alm's face. Once again, he was still, but his voice came with more ugency than before.

"Celica, yes...Yes, I can hear you. Where are you?"

"Where are _you?"_

"I...I'm headed to the capital of Rigel to stop the crown prince. Are you safe?"

It was so typical of Alm, checking on his friends even when he was the one in danger.

"Yes...but Alm, please don't challenge the might of Rigel yourself. There has to be another way, let me join you…"

"No way...and besides, I'm not alone."

"Who's there with you?

"Three women named Rose, Garnet, and Pearl, and a Yasha named Carocol!"

"Caro...col?"

"We'll be fine, but you need to find someplace safe! Something terrible is going to happen if I fail…"

"I know Alm, which is why you need to stay safe too! We're connected in more ways than you think."

"How so? Celica?"

But Celica could feel herself slowly returning to reality, though not before another horror presented itself. Alm's face was fading, morphing into something else. Another man's face replaced Alm's. His smile was cool and handsome as Alm's, but one that didn't quite reach his eyes, and his eyes were a vivid red.

"Challenge me, and meet your end."

Celica exploded into consciousness, the man's words still echoing in her head. Bismuth was ghost pale, standing in the doorway like a cat desperately trying to get outside.

"Rose is with him…" she muttered. "Rose is alive...and Garnet and Pearl."

Bismuthlaughed nervously, wiping a tear from her eyes. Celica realized she must've been talking out loud in her trance.

"We have to find him, now if need be!"

Saber placed a hand on Celica's head, but gasped and retracted immediately.

"Not now. She's in no state to go anywhere."

Saber was suddenly yanked away from Celica, and pushed against the wall by Bismuth.

"What in Duma's name are you doing?!" Halcyon yelled.

"My friends are all in danger! I don't care if we have to drag her through the snow, I'm going to find them!"

"Get...a...hold of yourself!" Saber choked out, kicking Bismuth away from her and pulling out her weapon.

"Stop...please…" Celica groaned.

"What's come over you?" Saber said, ducking as Bismuth attempted to grab her again. The backswing caught one of Halcyon's cupboards, spilling their grotesque contents on the floor. There was nothing like seeing an atrophied eyeball rolling along the floor to get someone off the ground, and the thought of being touched by it shot Celica into a standing position. She regretted this instantly, as all of the blood rushed to her head and threatened to submerge her into subconsciousness again.

Someone caught her; Saber. Bismuth, meanwhile, had kicked the door to the cabin down. Her hammer-like footprints in the snow lead in the direction of the other side of the Hamlet.

"Leave her," Halcyon said. "I know not what her kind has to do with you, but your focus must be on the Gods of this world."

"What else did you see, master?"

"It wasn't what I saw, but what I heard. Alm is with three more of those gems...and a Yasha."

Halcyon put a hand to his chin thoughtfully.

"Strange that a Yasha would be traversing the mainland, let alone with a child of Duma."

"Could he be…?"

But at that moment, there was a commotion outside. Bismuth was screaming at someone to get out of the way. The cold laughter that followed made Celica's hair stand on end.

"Heritor of Arcadia! I know you are here! Come out, little mouse, or watch your innocent brethren perish!"

Celica reluctantly followed Halcyon and Saber out of the cramped cabin and into the cold Wyrmstym air, terrified of what she might find. Her instincts had been correct.

Several children stood shivering in the snow, some not even dressed for the elements, behind a man in lavish gold armor. It was the strangest, and most horrible scene Celica had ever seen; the man appeared to have conjured swords in midair, positioned over the children's heads. Pools of golden light swirled around them.

"I must say, mongrel, you are far wiser than your comrade to the east. You at least have the sense to obey my commands."

Now, Celica recognized him. From the back of her mind, a name seemed to appear out of the darkness and confusion that communing with Alm had generated: Gilgamesh.

"What is this? What have you done?!"

It was Halcyon, in a voice not nearly as placid as before.

"I thought I made my demands quite clear, false profit. I requested the Heritor of Arcadia, and I have received. Now come before me, or witness my power firsthand."

Several of the children squealed in repressed voices. Celica's vision of the scene became more clear: chains were wrapped around their arms, legs, and mouths, preventing them from moving. Horrified sobs were echoing from all around them, and Celica realized there was an audience, and the sobs were coming from the children's parents.

"Well met, Archer."

Saber stepped forward, weapon at her side. Gilgamesh narrowed his eyes venomously.

"Saber...I haven't forgotten our last…"

"Nor have I, and I believe, right before I plunged my sword through your chest, you declared your intentions to change for the better."

Gilgamesh laughed, a sound colder than the air itself. The children whimpered louder, as the blades emerged from their magical sheaths even further.

"I am who I am, Saber, and no journey to Arcadia shall change that."

"So you still desire to plunge this world into darkness."

Gilgamesh guffawed.

"Spoken like a true commoner. You have no idea what kind of world I want, Saber. You never have."

"Spoken like a half-God," Saber retorted. "A half-God with half-baked ideals."

Gilgamesh sneered. Two of the blades rotated until their were pointed at Saber, twitching violently.

"Perhaps we shall test our ideals here and now. I've waited many moons for a chance to match blades with you again."

Without warning, the two swords flew at Saber. Her figure disappeared behind the resulting explosion, but once the smoke cleared, no harm had been done. She simply wiped the dust off of her armor, as if nothing had transpired.

"I see you can still play defense. But going on offense will be a horrible mistake, I promise you that."

There was a roar, and their attention was drawn to Bismuth, who was clutching her head in frustration.

"I don't have time for this! I don't want any humans to die, I just want to find Rose!"

"Your pathetic rock friend can wait. Not until I get what I came for."

"You...monster."

Celica had said it in as strong a voice as she could manage. Her strength was slowly returning to her.

"Let them go."

"If you desire…"

Gilgamesh grabbed one of the blades out of midair, lifting it over one of the boy's necks so that it loomed like a guillotine.

"Wait!"

The effort of this exclamation made Celica sway on the spot.

"I'll...I'll go with you…"

"Master!" Saber breathed loudly, looking back at Halcyon as if expecting him to do something, but his expression was hidden beneath his tucked brow.

"But, out of honor, you must answer me this...why do you need me?"

Gilgamesh smiled, and in a burst of golden light, the blade in his hand disappeared.

"It is not I that needs you, but my master, Duma. Anthiese, you are the key to our ambitions."

Celica blinked. There had been times in her youth when she had been called that, often on accident by her grandfather, who insisted she merely resembled the genuine article. The long lost princess of Zofia.

"What's so funny!?" she called back, for Gilgamesh was having a belly-laugh at her expense. He turned to Halcyon.

"You mean you haven't told her what her true heritage is? I thought holy men of Duma were supposed to be forthcoming!"

Halcyon's expression was still nebulous, unreadable.

"You, my little meat doll, are the lost princess of Zofia!"

Celica felt her heart stop.

_No...impossible. _

After half a decade of near famine in Zofia, had it been her disappearance that had started it? Was it all her fault?

"It's true," Halcyon said in a quiet voice. "I meant to tell you when this whole affair was over, but…"

"But what?!" Gilgamesh interrupted. "You were afraid she wouldn't have the guts to make the ultimate sacrifice? I am no mere servant, Halcyon. In life, I was the King of Heroes! There is nothing in this world that isn't mine, nothing on this planet that I do not know. I have full access to whatever the Earth provides at any given time, and am not afraid to use it to get what I want."

Saber's weapon flashed to life, revealing a sword with an aura of whitish-gold that illuminated the snow like the sun.

"You will not take my master, for I shall prevent you!"

Celica looked down at her command seals, then back to her servant, then back to the children. There would be no way Saber, even with her infinite speed and strength, could conquer the man and save the children in one fell swoop.

Whether she wanted it to be true or not, Celica was a princess, and these were her subjects.

"By my command seal...sheath your blade."

"Master?!" Saber cried out, groaning as the seal forced her to lower her weapon.

"By my second command seal, I order you to cease hostility," she said, in a low voice that almost didn't belong to her.

Bismuth, Halcyon, and the surrounding villagers watched Saber scream in agony, as the sword was forcefully plunged back into its sheath. She clutched at her abdomen and bent over, as if she'd been placed in a straightjacket.

"I will come with you," Celica repeated. "But you will release the children first."

"I have no doubts you will come to me. Therefore, consider it done."

The chains and blades vanished with a wave of his arm, the children screaming and crying as they crashed into their parents loving embraces. Celica only had a short moment to enjoy the touching scene before the same chains wrapped around her waist and pulled her to the ground.

She ingested a mouthful of snow as she was dragged like a game deer out of the village square, and into Gilgamesh's grasp. He pulled her up by the hair, forcing her to face him.

"Mmmmm, were your sacrifice not so necessary, you would make a fine wife."

Celica spat in the half-god's face. She wasn't sure what to expect in return, and mentally prepared herself for something sharp to puncture one of her limbs. Instead, Gilgamesh merely closed his eyes, wiped the saliva from his face. The smile that followed did reach his eyes.

"Yes, so much fight, so much vigor. You would entertain me until the end of time. Such a shame…"

"Master, no!" Saber called out desperately one last time, as Celica was pulled into the air arms yanked out so that she resembled a crucifix.

"What are you doing?" Bismuth said, sadness in her voice.

"If it is my destiny to inherit Arcadia and save the continent, then it must be done my way. Nobody else on this blessed continent should have to suffer because of the politics of the Gods. If my sacrifice will accomplish that...then so be it."

Celica's mouth and throat went dry as she imagined her own death. It had always seemed so far away...impossible at times.

Gilgamesh laughed again, Celica's skin prickling with every breath he took.

"You represent the very worst of humanity. Throwing yourself in harm's way, thinking you can save someone. How fleeting! Perhaps I shall make this a little more entertaining…"

More snake-like chains erupted from their portals and coiled tightly around three of the children, and Celica was forced to watch as they were dragged from their sobbing mothers, kicking and screaming along the way. Celica had long ago come to the conclusion that her days in the priory had prevented her from witnessing the horrors of war...but even the most battle-hardened of soldiers would have faltered at the sight of the three children, two boys and a girl, who had only minutes before been frolicking in the snow without a worry in the world, being dragged to their certain doom, faces stained red from crying and cuts as branches clawed at them from beneath the snow.

"If anyone dares follow us, the lives of these children are forfeit! Although, I expect to be pursued regardless-" he winked in Saber's direction "-so you may as well utter your goodbyes now."

"Go to hell, monster!" shouted one of the mothers with the ferocity of a mother bear. A single fireball formed in her hands, more potent than Celica could ever hope to compete, but as she prepared to speak the incantation to launch it, there was a flash of cobalt light, and the bolt of fire disappeared. Celica thought she had gone deaf for a second, for the anguished cries of mothers and children had disappeared. But every eye concentrated angrily upon Halcyon, whose staff glowed the same cobalt-blue.

"A silencing spell, and a strong one at that. Even I could feel its power for a moment. It's a pity that you are a disgrace to Duma and his teachings, for I certainly could have put you to use with magi-"

So strong was the silence spell, however, that halfway through Gilgamesh's rant, Saber had shrugged off Celica's command seal and charged at him with reckless abandon. Celica felt her body lift into the air, and in the blink of an eye she, the children, and their captor were in the center of the hamlet, completely unharmed.

"I should've known you, the King of Knights, would try to surprise me. You are no more a knight than you are a king. Rather than die a hero when you lived, you were too good for that. You allowed yourself to die peacefully as a king rather than in the midst of bloodbath like your brothers in arms."

"This coming from the half-God who sought immortality for himself rather than face death like his subjects?" Saber said. The cool demeanor of the King of Heroes evaporated.

"You know nothing," he said, venom in every syllable. "Consider this your final warning, Saber. Follow, and the children and your precious master will die."

"Don't...follow," Celica managed to say before Gilgamesh's magic consumed he and his prisoners, leaving the once bustling Sage's Hamlet in a horrible silence.


	19. Chapter 19: The Village in the Mist

"You're absolutely sure?"

"Yes," Alm snarled for what felt like the hundredth time. He was a good pace ahead of the rest of the group, and though it seemed like every step on Rigelian soil only brought him closer to death, he felt as if he could match blades with Duma himself, and live to tell the tale.

He had heard Celica...just then, he had spoken to her, and it was real. The way Rose stared at him, concern pooling in the corners of her eyes...she just didn't understand…

They had emerged from the arid climate of the south, but the route towards the capital had only grown more trying. Cavernous mountains walled in the path on both sides, and even though they were clearly ascending, they had no way of knowing just how high they were. Perhaps the thin air was having an effect on Alm...no, it was real. It had to be...

"Celica spoke to me. She is in Rigel, and she's headed for Duma Tower. There's more…" he said quickly, for Rose was itching to share her reservations. "She said someone named 'Bismuth' is with her."

"What?" Rose said, her cheeks pinker than normal. "You're su-"

"Yes, I am absolutely sure, now please stop asking!"

Alm came to a stop, allowing Rose to catch up. He put a hand on her shoulder, which was warm even in the Wyrmstym cold, and rubbed it apologetically. Rose smiled, nodding in the direction of Rigel Keep. It had only been a few days time, and yet it felt like their journey together had been a lifetime. An unspoken pact, where one would always trust the other, had been forged between them, one that not even different upbringings, cultures, and folkways would break.

It was ironic, then, that Carocol, who was also human, was more difficult to convince. He'd rolled his eyes when Alm had explained what he saw, and was now taking his time much to Alm's chagrin.

"We should've left him to rot in the desert," Alm had muttered earlier in the day, earning a reproachful look from Rose.

"Alm, while I understand your desire to take down that loathsome man and his master," Rose began in the present, "I fear our combined man (and gem)-power simply isn't enough to do that. Perhaps we can seek another ship to take us across the ocean and seek a parley…"

"You won't find... any friendly ports around here," Alm panted as they reached a steep part in the road. The rocks had become so numerous, and yet so loose and brittle, every step felt as if the rockfall would fall apart at any moment. "This...this is pirate territory."

"And besides," he said, taking a moment to catch his breath. "I'm not dragging her into this. We'll defeat the prince, then we will venture across the ocean.

"The boy is right," Garnet muttered. Alm found it amazing how, once upon a time, Garnet had been the strangest of the three gems he'd met, and yet now he often forgot she was there. "I see the best outcome if we continue towards the Keep and conquer it."

Alm nodded, and though he would've gladly sold his prized horse to see Celica again, he did have a world to save. A horrible thought crossed his mind; Celica, screaming in anguish as the world around her crumbled to dust.

Certainly, Celica wasn't foolish enough to challenge the tower all by her lonesome…

The craggy walls flanking them slowly shrunk lower and lower, until the horizon was visible. Below the orange line of the sunset, however, a thick wall of fog shrouded the rest of Rigel from view. Alm avoided glancing into this abyss, for his sense of peril was already mounting. It would not be long before another hazard would greet them.

The main path was suddenly impeded by a massive boulder. A trail of freshly carved grooves indicated that it had been purposely placed there, and not too long ago.

"Berkut has been here," Alm said, banging his fist on the boulder impatiently. A gust of wind ascended from the foggy gulch, so that he had to steel himself from being pushed backwards.

"We must find another way around…" Rose suggested.

"There is no other way. The main route to the Keep is sure to be well patrolled."

It struck Alm how brilliant Berkut's thinking had been, tricking Alm into crossing the less protected border near Zofia Harbor. Even though he had escaped captivity, Berkut had ensured Alm would take the dangerous route, only to force him into the Rigelian mainland in the case where the harsh conditions did not do him in.

"We're literally stuck between a rock and a hard place…" Garnet muttered, and despite the overwhelming sensations of anxiety and peril, it was a relief for both Rose and Alm to laugh.

"Does your future vision tell us if we'll find a big shovel or not?"

"All it tells me is that we will reach the capital."

"Hmph," Carocol grunted, observing the abyss emotionlessly. Even from afar, Alm could see the Yasha's muscles pulsing like that of a monkey's, as if he were preparing to jump. "Seeing the future isn't very helpful if you don't know how to get there."

"Is tha-"

But before Alm could finish, Carocol had jumped down to a small ledge a good ten feet below him. He landed with the grace of a dove in a tree branch, his eyes already scanning the next landing pad.

"Coming?" he shouted up. "It's easy!"

_For someone not wearing heavy armor, perhaps, _Alm thought, but he couldn't stop Garnet and Rose from jumping down to the same ledge. There was the frightening sound of the ledge caving under their combined weight, but before the ledge could collapse they had already made their next move. Garnet summoning her gauntlet and punching a hole in the thick rock in order to suspend herself. The other two found solace on a slightly larger ledge, barely in Alm's line of sight.

Seeing no choice but to follow, he dug in and slowly began to climb down. By the time he was level with the ledge where Carocol had landed, his friends were out of sight, hidden beneath the natural veil. He could hear their hurried voices, Carocol barking out instructions (which was refreshing, perhaps, since he had spent most of the journey brooding), although they were starting to grow quieter.

Just as Alm imagined giving them a piece of his mind for leaving him behind, there was a bloodcurdling _crunch. _His senses were muted, so that the only sensation was cold air pounding his back. Far away, he thought could hear someone call his name

As suddenly as he had begun to fall, he stopped. Something, or rather someone, had grabbed his wrist. Alm opened his eyes to see Garnet, her face drenched with sweat, concentrating every muscle in her body on keeping Alm from falling. The instant Alm attempted to steady himself against the mountain wall, however, there was a second horrible _crunch, _and for a split second they were both falling.

It was Rose's turn to catch them, her expression likewise concentrated on keeping her friends suspended. Alm dared to look down, but the earth's surface was too deeply shrouded in fog.

"Can't...hold...on…" Rose muttered, her strength beginning to fail her. Already, the platform Rose was standing on was beginning to whine and crumble under her weight; it would not hold if she were to pull them up anyway.

"Just let go!"

"Caro...col?"

"Jump down! You'll be safe!"

"You're out of your mind!" Garnet yelled. "I knew I should've at least tried to destroy that boulder!" She spoke again, this time in a softer voice.

"We know that boulder was too large. It took an entire army to move it."

"Just jump!"

The voice seemed distant, yet so clear. Alm would certainly not have the liberty of catching himself like a Yasha well-versed in mountain climbing might. Nonetheless, if they were going to fall, they may as well do it now instead of waiting for the peril.

Alm was the first to let go, Garnet screaming his name in horror as she faded from view. He closed his eyes, waiting for a sickening, final _crunch. _It came sooner than he thought, although it was merely the crunch of iron boots meeting cold soil. He allowed his knees to absorb the shock before rebounding and landing on his back. Carocol was standing over him, a sense of superiority written in his face.

With both Alm and Carocol's encouragement, both Rose and Garnet joined them in due time.

"How did you know how far up we were?"

"I didn't. I, like you, jumped at nothing, and landed here."

"Yeah...what exactly is here?" Rose said as she landed beside them. The condensation was too thick to see anywhere in the distance, although the sound of gently lapping water indicated they were close to the ocean once again. Then, out of nowhere, the stench of death overcame Alm, so that his eyes watered and bile jumped into his throat. Carocol and Rose buried their noses in their garments, retching at the odor, while Garnet merely adjusted her glasses.

"What is that smell?" Garnet asked, as if she were asking for the price of a bushel of apples.

"Dead fish," Carocol answered in a muffled voice. "But why…"

As if in response, the fog lifted slightly in the north, revealing a small row of fishermen's cottages. These were a far cry from the postcard cottages of Zofia Harbor; the cottages in this town were dilapidated beyond potential salvage. Chunks of soggy plywood hung from their nails like the tongues of dogs on a sweltering day, thick condensation forming on the windows as the fog snaked its way through visible cracks in the windows, walls, and ceilings. The streets, pristine in ancient times perhaps, were no easier to traverse than the mountain trail, the cobblestones jutting out of the ground like jagged teeth.

As this scene presented itself, so did a new horror. Grotesque shapes, skulking up and down the streets, only breaking away from their straight paths to avoid the loose stone. Even this motion seemed lethargic and practiced, however, as if they had done it for centuries without rest. An eerie moaning noise seemed to grow louder as more and more figures appeared, until it resembled the buzzing of a bee in one's ear.

At one point, one of the shadows moved into Alm's visible spectrum, revealing a woman that could easily have popped out of a children's tale about witches. Upon meeting his gaze, the woman took on a ghastly shade of white and suddenly collapsed on her hands and knees, crawling pitifully towards them.

"Oh your excellence, you've returned!"

The old crone lunged at Alm's feet with her lips puckered. Garnet grabbed his shoulder and pulled him away as her lips met the toe of his boot.

"My kind and, er...fair maiden," Alm began, and the woman looked up at him with watery eyes. "You must have mistaken me for someone else. We are but simple mercenaries, passing through on our way to the capital."

"But alas, you possess your father's features, his expression...and just now, you have shown his selflessness. There is no need to humble yourself, my liege. Long has Goldstarch waited for your return…"

Both the woman and Garnet jumped back as Alm suddenly exclaimed loudly.

"Goldstarch!? You mean to tell me…"

"But of course, your excellence. The village you see over yonder is Goldstarch, once the Pearl of Rigel," she recited dramatically, expecting Alm's compatriots to react as well.

"Alm, um...what is she talking about?" Rose asked.

"Goldstarch is as she said, once the greatest port city in all of Rigel! Strategically located halfway between the capitals of Zofia and Rigel, many trade routes converged here. That was, until a massive landslide completely isolated it…"

Alm could remember hearing the story from Mycen when he was a lad. Mycen had called him in from tending to the cows, something he rarely did, and explained what had happened. An earthquake had occurred, the first recorded in nearly a millennia, that shocked even the stable mountains of Rigel, generating a landslide that would kill over 100 people before cutting the village off from the rest of society. Many had thought the village lost, destroyed, its residents doomed...and yet here it was before him, decrepit, depressing, and somehow still populated.

Gazing around, he could see tall, sharp rock formations in the mist, a grim reminder of that horrible day.

"We have waited many years for your arrival…" the woman repeated. "Many years to show you that we are still very much alive and well in Goldstarch. But you must be tired from your journey, come...there is an inn where you and your vanguard can stay, although it hasn't been open for some time."

The mist was slowly beginning to vacate the village, meandering out across the sea like herds of fluffy white cattle, the ocean the shepherd. Now that the mist was gone, however, Alm could see the favor it had done the former "Pearl of Rigel." Litter and clumps of animal feces lined the cracks of the streets, which seemed to be older than even Sir Mycen with their imperfect design. The sea itself was a sickly green color with pockets of healthy blue in between, although closer inspection revealed rows upon rows of dead and decaying fish.

"Are there...any other towns around here?" Carocol asked hopefully. The woman retched, in turn making Rose cover her mouth.

"As the prince said, this place doesn't exist. Only way out or in is by boat."

Garnet sneezed, or at least the others thought she had, but when Alm looked back later she was clutching her abdomen uncomfortably, trying not to heave.

"This place reeks," she muttered. Indeed, the village reeked of rotten fish, the elixir of death. The woman smiled, leaning in so that she was only an inch from Alm's face.

"They thought I was mad I tell you, waiting for you to return," the woman rasped, and Alm tightened his nostrils, for her foul breath was far worse than the odor in the air.

"Come and see, for the prince has returned!"

At her call, the grotesque shadows they had seen before emerged from the still-retreating mist. Alm instinctively reached for his blade, for their sickly movements suggested they were the revenants that had been attacking cattle in certain parts of Zofia. He felt a rush of pity, however, when the first shadow to emerge was a young boy. His skin was not smooth and clear like that of a healthy child, but crusty and covered in unknown grime.

These shadows were not of the walking dead, but they may as well have been. The men regarded Alm with sunken eyes, not so sunken to mask their disbelief. The women, though slightly cleaner than the men (and far more plentiful, Alm noticed), were garbed only in bedraggled potato sacks and shoes, so that their bony limbs and skeletal abdomens were plainly visible.

"Lord Duma shall forsake us no more," the woman shrieked, raising Alm's hand with surprising force. The onlookers said nothing, staring at the new arrivals with empty expressions. They had been isolated from hope for so long, Alm thought, that perhaps they weren't ready to believe it. He stepped forward, trying not to cough as the awful stench invaded his open mouth.

"Residents of Goldstarch, though we cannot stay here very long, we assure you that we will notify the world that you are still here and in desperate need of assistance."

When nobody spoke, he cleared his throat and continued.

"We, sadly, have very little to offer in terms of rations, and so we shall continue without taxing you any further…"

"Nonsense!"

The woman grabbed him, and again he was taken aback by her strength.

"There are dangers, both mortal and undead, waiting beyond these peaks. Please, let me show you your quarters."

Alm was about to insist that they had another leg of their journey to complete by nightfall, but the baggage of traveling in the desert and Rigelian mountains all day collapsed on him all at once.

He looked back at Rose and Garnet. Rose seemed rather reluctant, but a yawn from Garnet was enough to indicate her thoughts on the matter. Carocol shook his head, but followed as the woman led them away from the circle of raggy residents.

The moon rose a couple of hours later, though the village of Goldstarch was dark and featureless. The occasional shadow emerged from its residence, always staring in the direction of the two-floor shack where the Crystal Deliverance was set up for the night, before continuing into the night.

Alm sat brooding at the windowsill, studying the fetid coastline. He felt many things; sadness, despair, and anger directed at Duma. How was it fair to punish these people for where they lived, simply because they had lost their usefulness? Duma had removed their only source of meat, ruined their soil, and hidden them from society beneath a constant mist, simply because they couldn't provide for the empire anymore…

Rose, perhaps, could sense Alm's frustrations, for she gave him a wide berth. Carocol had insisted upon walking to the sea by his lonesome, and Garnet had disappeared (which was common), leaving her quite lonely. She glanced down at Pearl's gem, which she had clutched tightly since she had been destabilized in the battle with Gilgamesh, as if to will her into being.

This Pearl had not been her first; had it been up to Blue and Yellow Diamond, she would never have been given another Pearl again. She had quite the adolescence, a luxurious one that, had Garnet or Bismuth ever discovered it, would likely never see her the same way again. To them, and every other gem that had participated in the Rebellion, she was the leader of the greatest gem uprising ever recorded. In reality, she was everything she was fighting to destroy.

Only Pearl and herself knew that gemkind hadn't been her impetus to strike back against Homeworld. It had been Earth's organic life, and specifically humans, that had triggered the paradigm shift in her. Perhaps it was a sense of comfort that gravitated her towards them. Even with kings to lord over them and these so-called "Gods" controlling their fate, there was a remarkable sense of freedom in their lives. They could be whatever they wanted, farmers, knights, mercenaries...It was something greater than purpose; it was _choice. _It was _fulfillment._

But now, having sworn her services to Alm and humanity as a whole, she had nearly cost her most prized ally her gem. Bismuth's whereabouts were still unknown, and even though she was still alive, the fact that Celica was in danger likely didn't bode well. Garnet, whose fierce loyalty to Rose and the cause was only second to Pearl, was clearly unhappy with where they were staying.

All she had ever wanted to do was help humanity and protect the Earth...why did her friends have to suffer for it?

Alm nearly fell out of the windowsill as Rose's fist, the one containing Pearl's gem, busted a hole in the wall.

"Reform!" she shouted at the pale gemstone in her hand, remorse flowing through her the instant she said it. It had been some time since she'd thrown a fit like this, but it also had been a long time since Pearl had stayed in her gemstone for more than a couple of seconds after being destabilized. Alm approached her with the same care a hunter would show a rabid animal, the reaction she expected from the first human being to ever witness her impatient side.

"Rose...is everything alright?"

Something wet and hot streamed down Rose's cheek, and she wiped it away just as Alm reached her.

"Pearl would usually be back now, I...guess I got a little impatient."

Unsure of what else to say, Alm simply put a hand on Rose's shoulder, and reassured her that once Berkut and Gilgamesh were defeated, it would all be over.

Rose smiled as convincingly as she could, until he finally returned to the windowsill. But it was far too late for her to be reassured. Even now, she could feel white-hot anger bubbling in her stomach again, so she set Pearl down so as not to risk any further damage. It was a frightening thing, to know one's own strength and have no control over it…

In the midst of Rose's tantrum and Alm's stewing, Carocol was walking the path beside the sea, finding comfort in the hissing of water on the sand, the spray of salt on his face, and perhaps even the smell of dead fish. He wondered how anyone could live on the continental mainland, away from these glorious sensations, where they could be free from oppressive snowfall and droughts that resulted from divine intervention.

He came across several residents they had met upon arrival in town, each more scrawny and destitute than the last. But Carocol felt no sympathy for their plight. It was their choice, after all, to live under Duma's guidance. Here they lived on the sea, which could provide them anything they wanted, and yet they still insisted upon a life with hardship.

But it was not a depressing sight, as it surely was to Alm. If anything, their ragged clothing and vacancies filled him with confidence. Pride in the place he had come from, and would someday return to.

The last thing he wanted to do was rub that in, especially around Alm, whose heart was surely aching right now. But he felt the singing praise of victory regardless, and his reward was a sense of familiarity and the sensations of the sea.

But as a massive wave crashed upon the road before him, creating a puddle that reflected his image in the full moon's light, he was reminded that he looked very different from when he first departed. How would he explain that to his father, whose dedication to the middle road was only rivaled by his son? Would he accuse him of accepting a deal from Mila, rather than accepting death?

"Enjoying yourself?"

Garnet's voice came to him from below the path, and in the soft glow of the moonlit water he saw her form, admiring the silver waves by her lonesome.

"In a sense," Carocol answered shortly, turning and preparing to head back into the village. He always had the feeling Garnet was reading his mind.

"Come watch the stars with me."

Carocol huffed.

"You already have someone to watch it with."

"Not really. Ruby and Sapphire can feel each other, but it's not like I can talk to myself or hold my own hand."

Garnet put a hand in the sand and scooped up a small hole, making an imprint where she wanted Carocol to sit. The alternative was looping through town and walking the same path along the beach, and he'd already had his fair share of these depressing villagers. It would be the lesser of two evils to sit with her, listening to the melancholic whispers of wind and water.

He relented, and vaulted a pile of jagged rocks that had once been part of a long decrepit retaining wall, taking a seat next to Garnet. She smiled, putting her arms behind her head and laying back. Carocol merely sat with his legs crossed, tracing lines in the sand with his finger. He expected Garnet to say something first, but she did not.

"I made a mistake," he said finally.

"How's that?"

"Had I known this was here, well...I would've chanced simply climbing around the rock and back onto the main path."

"What's so bad about this place?"

Carocol guffawed, spreading his arms as if it were obvious.

"Perhaps things don't smell in the world you're from, but this place literally smells like its rotten to the core."

"Don't see why that makes it a bad place," Garnet said, her voice smooth as the sand beneath their feet. "Took me a little bit to get used to, but now I kind of enjoy it."

"How did you come to that?"

"Rose. Even when the going gets tough...even when something seems unassailable, she always finds a way to keep the Crystal Gems and I going. Giving up isn't just a concept in combat; if I were to have given up on staying here when we first arrived, I wouldn't have been able to see the sky tonight. Thank you, future vision.

Garnet smiled and adjusted her goggles.

"I forgot...you can see the future," Carocol muttered, as a strong wave blanketed his legs with water. "What will happen to this place?"

"As I see it, one of three things…"

"Hold on," Carocol interrupted. "There can only be one possibility. How can you be sure of anything if you don't know which vision is right?"

Garnet chuckled.

"I've been asking myself the same question ever since I came here. On Homeworld, it's easy to predict the future because nothing ever changes. Sure, new technology is developed and new planets are added to the empire, but every gem has a set purpose. A list of instructions they need to follow for their entire existence, without question. Unlike humans, gems live for hundreds of millenia, so you can imagine how hard it would be to disrupt a gem's routine.

"But humans...humans aren't predictable at all. Alm could tell the world that this village still exists, and they could come and try to dig them out, or they could simply choose not to believe him. Or Alm forgets to tell anyone. I don't think he would outright choose not to tell anyone; doesn't seem the type. Then again, maybe he is."

Garnet chuckled again.

"That's the fun part about Earth. It's a big guessing game."

Carocol focused on the stars again, specifically the bright pink one Rose had pointed out all those days ago, the Homeworld as they'd called it.

"We're not all that spontaneous. Especially people here, in the mainland. Most of them bend to the will of the gods."

"Some more than others," Garnet said. "Tell me about your island, Carocol."

"We don't obey any god," Carocol said. "As far as I'm concerned, we're independent. We don't participate in their politics, and we lead happy lives as a result."

"So your people are okay if people on the mainland are affected by the gods, as long as you aren't?"

It was Carocol's turn to chuckle.

"Spoken like that Alm boy."

"I'm not criticising you or your people. Just curious."

Carocol wasn't sure how to answer. Sure, perhaps deep down he did feel a bit of remorse for the people in Rigel, who had been starving for several seasons. But then again, they had brought it upon themselves by pledging loyalty to Duma's way of life. Hardship for the sake of strengthening oneself. It was a farce of epic proportions, even if the Rigelian army was supposedly the strongest in the land.

"What would your people do if the gods disappeared?"

"It's not a question of what we would do," Carocol began, "but what the people of the mainland would do. Perhaps they would learn to live like us, which would be nice, but this is merely hypothetical...it would never happen."

Garnet murmured her disagreement, but said nothing more. The waves were gradually growing larger, and Carocol's legs were getting cold, so he moved further up to where Garnet was.

"Is that something you've foreseen?" Carocol asked finally.

"It's a possibility."

Carocol supposed anything could be a possibility if someone thought long and hard about it.

"The people of the mainland aren't in a position to make that happen," Carocol said. He was confident this was true. Mainland Valentia was the lovechild of the twin gods, that much had been true in the minds of the island residents for centuries. That wouldn't change overnight.

"We, the Yasha, have existed for centuries without a divine hand to push us along, and the result is a benevolent, diplomatic society with no strife or turmoil. Our destinies are our own."

Garnet sat up, so that her head was level with Carocol's. The careless smile had been replaced with a strange frown. That odd feeling that she was reading his mind overcame him again.

"I've held back from telling you certain things," she said, as an odd twinkle flashed out from beneath her goggles. "Things about your island, and what's happened there while you've been gone."

"You can see the past as well?" Carocol asked incredulously.

"Yes, but again, not a remarkable ability. It requires me to have made physical contact with someone, allowing me to know their secrets and the fates of those close to them."

"Can you show me?"

"I...it wouldn't be right," she said, getting to her feet. "We should get back to Rose and Alm. We need to make a plan for our attack on the capital."

Garnet bounded over the remains of the retaining wall, but before she could disappear behind it Carocol made the jump onto the main walkway as well.

"If you know something about my people, you have to tell me."

A thick cloud obscured the moon at that moment, so that only Garnet's shadow was visible. It inhaled and heaved, as if a heavy load had suddenly been put on its shoulders. Finally, she turned and approached Carocol, keeping her head down the whole way to avoid his gaze. She kissed his forehead, and before he knew it he was standing on the island of his youth.

He could even tell exactly where he was; the main square of the island's capital. It was night now, and though the seasons did not differentiate themselves like they did on the mainland, the air was slightly warmer than it would be in Wyrmstym.

"You have a lot of nerve, mongrel, showing up so late."

The relief that Carocol felt at being home immediately vanished, as Gilgamesh suddenly entered the scene. He seemed not to have noticed Carocol, instead focusing on a shadow emerging from the dark Council Hall. The shadow stepped into the light of the great torch hanging above the village square, and Carocol's heart skipped a beat as his father's face was illuminated in the orange light. Even in the glow of the flame, his features were pale and sickly looking; Carocol had only seen him in this state once. That had been when his mother had passed away.

"Father, be wary of this man!" Carocol tried to shout, but found that no sound came out of his moving mouth.

"It will be done, quickly, at your hand as you have requested."

His father's voice was typically flat and emotionless, but there was something sinister in his word choice that made Carocol's hair stand on end.

"Your compliance is appreciated. Perhaps I was wrong to call your people obstinate and godless."

"My beliefs are not shaken by my decision," Carocol's father said with a smirk. "I am merely doing this to keep your kind out of our affairs."

Carocol smiled with satisfaction at his father's snide response, but Gilgamesh barely flinched.

"I have a feeling, someday, you will rue those words mongrel. At any rate, once the boy is delivered to me, I shall keep my end of the bargain. I will ensure your island is spared of the genesis to come."

The scene disappeared in a wave of color, forming another scene. Carocol recognized his home on the side of the hill overlooking the ocean, but that was not what concerned him. A stench more foul than Goldstarch's invaded his nostrils. He coughed and spun around, looking for the source of the odor, regretting that decision immediately.

Bodies, all belonging to peers and adults he had known his entire life, littered the island, gutted beyond recognition as if they were worthless minnows.

"Fa...father…" Carocol mouthed, imagining the fear his voice would certainly have conveyed. He felt himself moving automatically towards his childhood house, as if something were leading him there. For the first time in his life, he was dreading the feeling of opening the door to his house, the place where, ironically, he had always felt the safest.

He reached for the doorknob, nausea mounting with every second.

The sight that greeted him made him sway on the spot. His midsection hurt as if someone had both punched him in the gut and stabbed him in the heart at the same time.

There, in a pool of his own blood, before the fireplace where they had once talked about death, was his father. Three blades, one in each arm and a third in his abdomen, were stained crimson with dried blood. A fresh torrent emerged each time his father drew breath (he was alive somehow!), a horrible sound that was a cross of shuddering and gagging.

"Even now, lying in a bath of your filthy, heathen blood, you cannot manage a single emotion."

Carocol spun around to see Gilgamesh, three empty, golden portals surrounding his head. They disappeared as he stepped forward, examining his latest victim with savage pride.

"C...Ca…"

"Your son is dead, as I requested and you agreed to. And now, I have held up my end of the bargain. You and your kind shall not live to become a part of the world Duma and I will create."

Gilgamesh threw his head back, unleashing that horrible laugh he'd heard in the cave that fateful day. Hate far greater, far hotter, far thicker than Carocol had ever felt bubbled up in his veins. He had never wanted anything more than to wrap his arms around Gilgamesh's throat, strangle him, tear his flesh apart as a gargoyle or any other demon might do. Every muscle hurt, as he tried to force himself to move, but could not.

"Such a pity. Willing to sacrifice anything just for the sake of protecting your shallow lifestyle, but in the end it has cost you everything. With your last breath, know that your people, your son, your way of life, is no more, you coward."

Carocol was forced to watch as Gilgamesh raised his heavy, gold boot, and drove it into his father's skull. There was an awful finality to the crack of his father's skull beneath the boot, as the last of his life force left his eyes, and his corpse slumped to the ground.

Gilgamesh's cold, vicious laughter continued to echo in his ears, even as he was finally sucked out of the vision, and returned to a new, horrible reality.


	20. Heart of the Crystal Deliverance

"Ca-Carocol?"

Garnet had removed her goggles, so that all three of her eyes regarded Carocol with an expression Carocol had never seen.

"How...long have you known?" Carocol asked in as steady a voice as he could manage.

"The moment I met you," she answered. "I understand this makes you upset, but I...I couldn't not tell you."

Carocol was something far beyond upset, but his mind couldn't decide what this feeling was. The vision he had seen repeated in his mind over and over again, his mind spiralling into a whirlwind of different emotions, buffeting his heart and his bones. Sadness, knowing he would never see his father again. Betrayal, that his father had likely intended that from the beginning, though he would be the one still alive, not his son.

It was anger, however, that seemed to be winning this war. The disregard Gilgamesh had for his neighbors, his people, his father...even as the other emotions and painful images of Garnet's vision continued to play over and over again, the sounds of Gilgamesh's laughter, his horrible smile, lurked in the darkest corner of his mind. He could not believe that only a single cycle of the sun before, he had willingly allowed Gilgamesh to assail him, without any desire to fight back.

Carocol wasn't aware that he had reached for his blade, until Garnet jumped back in alarm. He thought of when his father had given him the blade, for protection, a laughable thought now. Now, the very steel stung his skin like the point of an icicle, and he felt the urge to chuck it into the ocean.

He opened his mouth to say something, to let Garnet know he had no intention of harming her, but nothing came out. Garnet recognized Carocol had no ill intentions through his body language (or lack thereof), putting a hand on his shoulder cautiously after another minute of allowing Carocol to compose himself.

Carocol realized his skin was glowing pink, pulsing every time a particularly painful thought stabbed at his heart. He and Garnet stood like this for a time, measuring the minutes in time with the soft hiss of the ocean waves.

Their period of reflection was interrupted when a skin-curdling moaning sound emanated behind them. A village resident stood hunched over, as if his legs could barely support him. His mouth was agape, though not so much as his eyes, which were an unsettling mix of bloodshot red and jaundiced yellow.

"Can we...help you?" Garnet said. The man only lifted a trembling arm in response. It looked as though he was merely waving at them, until he began to extend his gnarled fingers, and even in the limited light of the moon, the sharpness of them put Garnet on guard.

Before Garnet could even repeat herself, the man was charging at them, uttering a guttural roar impossible for a human to produce.

But Garnet, who possessed both the precognitive abilities of a Sapphire and the martial instinct of a Ruby, would not be swayed. In one motion, she summoned her gauntlet and uppercutted the man with the might of ten rubies. To her horror, the blow decapitated the man, his head soaring into the night sky and out of sight.

"Oh no…" she muttered to herself, looking down at her gauntlets as if they had somehow disobeyed her. Three of the man's blackened teeth were stuck between her fingers. How was she going to explain this to Rose?

But there was no time to think, the man's arms had wrapped around her throat without a brain to direct them. Though it took considerable strength, she managed to pull the torso off of her, and watched as the torso's legs carried it away into the night.

"More…?" Garnet muttered, for where empty streets had been before were now overrun with the villagers, moaning and growling as the first man had. One of the approaching woman's arms fell off, but it did not deter the creature; if anything, it seemed to be approaching faster than the others, as if the weight of their limbs was holding them back. She retreated back from the approaching horror, until the cold ocean was lapping at her feet.

"I underestimated their hunger."

At the sound of the voice, which sounded eerily familiar to Garnet, the approaching horrors suddenly froze. The shadow of a hunched over woman was following the path Carocol had taken when he came across Garnet; she immediately recognized the crone who had greeted them earlier.

"Controlling the undead is not as easy as it seems," she breathed. Her voice had lost that grandmotherly sweetness from earlier. "I suppose, however, now is as good a time as any."

"Time for what? What's going on?"

The old woman cackled. Garnet looked back and forth between the crone and the horrors surrounding her, waiting for them to maul her, but they stood stiff and rigid like statues.

"Time to eliminate you, of course, as his Lordship requested."

"I don't understand…"

"My Lordship never forgets," the old woman said with a giggle. "Many seasons have we waited for healthy flesh to consume…and he has provided."

Garnet's gauntlets hummed to life once more.

"I'll hold them off. Carocol, you need to warn Alm and Rose…Carocol?"

But Carocol, who had not moved from the spot where Garnet had shown him the vision, did not even flinch, even as the old woman stumbled towards him. There was a vacancy in his expression, so that he was impossible to tell apart from the zombies under the old hag's employ.

"Carocol, I can't do this alone!" Garnet said through gritted teeth.

"He has accepted death," the old woman said, as she knelt down to look in his eyes. She wrapped her bony fingers around his cheek and shook it aggressively, but even this did not stir him to move. "Perhaps in time, so shall you."

She wrapped the young man's body in her arms, and turned to face Garnet, holding his limp body in front of her as is to shield herself from Garnet.

"Mmm, your flesh will be a perfect appetizer for the main course."

"No!" Garnet yelled, for the woman had sank her teeth into Carocol's shoulder. She closed her eyes, expecting to hear the tearing of flesh from its vessel, but instead there was a ghastly scream. Carocol's entire body was glowing pink, and even at a distance, Garnet could feel the heat radiating from him. The old woman was writing in pain on the ground, clutching her jaw, her screeching muffled.

Garnet raised her gauntlets, preparing for a vengeful attack from the revenants on account of their fallen commander, but as the old woman composed herself, she directed their attention to Garnet instead.

"Perhaps...you will have to suffice…" she mumbled, still clutching her jaw.

"The only thing you're going to taste is my fist," Garnet said, pounding them together.

"If you will not surrender, you shall be consumed where you stand, slowly if need be," the woman said, licking her chapped lips. "Begin!"

But just as the revenants roared to life, staggering towards Garnet with staggering speed, there was a loud crash. Garnet gasped as a bolt of orange energy suddenly appeared. It mowed down a row of the revenants with ease, leaving a trail of dismembered arms and legs that continued to squirm on their own accord.

The bolt of energy paused, and Garnet saw that it was not a bolt after all but something akin to a wheel. Orange energy emanated from it like the sun, and though the heat was welcome in the cold, Garnet had the feeling she had seen this energy somewhere else before.

"What is this?!" the old woman spat, as another legion of her undead warriors was consumed by this unexpected participant.

The energized orb came to a rest in the midst of the undead army, the revenants covering their eyes as the orb uncurled itself and emitted a bright light that forced even Carocol in his daze to shield his eyes. When it subsided, Garnet looked up to see her suspicions were confirmed, for a quartz gem was now towering over the old crone.

She was easily as tall as Rose, but the scars on her limbs and torso made her far more intimidating. Her hair was as long as Rose's, but far more wild and unkempt, reaching all the way down her back. Her skin was a bright orange with amber and brown lines, so that she resembled a bipedal tiger.

"How dare you interrupt our feast! Explain yourself!" the old woman screeched. The giant gem didn't seem to hear her, choosing instead to scan the mass of undead bodies. Who this giant gem would recognize in this morbid crowd, Garnet knew not.

"Where is Rose?" she asked in a low voice, sending chills down Garnet's spine.

"I do not know, and I care not! My children and I were promised a feast, and we will have one. Kill h-"

Jasper wrapped a massive fist around the old woman's head and lifted her off the ground with ease.

"I don't care about you humans like Pink used to. I have no problem pounding you into this rotten soil. I was told Rose was going to be here, so stay out of my-"

But as Jasper's gaze happened upon the beachhead, she finally caught Garnet's eye and went silent. The two studied each other silently, unsure what the other would do in response to seeing another gem. Garnet could feel Ruby encouraging her to throw the first punch, but only Sapphire's caution held her back.

"And what in the stars are you supposed to be?" Jasper said with a smirk, letting the old woman squirm free.

"My name doesn't matter. Rose isn't here, so leave!"

"On the contrary, an embarrassment like you being here must mean Rose is nearby. And what's this?"

She pointed at Carocol, who had sunk back into his vegetative state.

"It's obvious that Rose healed this human. Now tell me where she is."

"I won't."

"Ha!" Jasper exclaimed, a twinkle in her eye. "I'll have to beat it out of you then. Good! I've been looking to have a little fun."

Jasper curled into a ball, gyrating in place and building up orange energy. The force of this sent the crone and her "children" flying back.

But before Garnet could prepare for the blow, another voice sounded above the gathering energy and momentum.

"Garnet! Carocol!"

Rose landed between Garnet and Jasper, as if nothing were amiss, her typical jubilant self. She placed her hands on Garnet's shoulders, before embracing the fusion as if nobody else was around.

"There you are! I've been looking for you-Garnet?"

Garnet had dropped her arms to her sides, a shadow coming over her complexion.

"Rose Quartz!"

Rose gasped as she finally noticed Jasper. She was no longer in her ball-like state, although a palpable orange aura continued to surround her.

"A quartz soldier?" she muttered.

"You are the one who shattered Pink Diamond...There will be no trial for you, traitor."

There was a hum akin to the one Garnet's gauntlets made when they were activated, as an orange brace covered Jasper's forehead and eyes.

"I'm gonna shatter you myself!"

Garnet stood beside Rose, drawing her gauntlets up in front of her.

"It's three...er, two on one," Garnet shouted up at the quartz soldier. "We'll take you down together, right Rose? Rose?!"

But Rose had her arms crossed, hanging her head. Garnet couldn't believe it; was she the only one willing to fight?

"So you'll attack a Diamond from behind, but when you face someone superior to you, you cower and accept defeat?"

Jasper snickered, but when she spoke again, it was with a tone of pure hatred.

"You're nothing but a coward."

This time, both Ruby and Sapphire were spurred into action, and Garnet launched herself towards Jasper at full velocity. Jasper managed to duck her head at the last moment as Garnet swung with all of her might. Garnet swung again, concentrating more speed into her punch, but the sacrifice of power allowed Jasper to catch her wrist, lifting the fusion off the ground so their eyes met.

"Garnet, no!"

"Say hello to Tiger's Eye for me…" Jasper breathed in Garnet's face. But as she leaned her head back to deliver the final blow, the wind was forced out of her lungs as Rose's shield collided with her chest. Garnet escaped her grasp, kicking at her face as she did and sending her scraping along the cobblestone ground. Now she lay at the feet of the old crone and her minions, who had become somehow become forgotten in the skirmish.

"Erm...forget them! Spread out and find the prince!"

The crowd of undead disseminated, until they had all disappeared down the dark streets of the decrepit city.

"No you don't!" Rose called, jumping onto the street and preparing to pursue them, just as Jasper got to her feet. She ran into Rose's path, summoning her headgear again.

"You're not going anywhere…"

"I have no quarrel with you quartz soldier!" Rose said. Garnet caught up with her, the gravity of what Jasper had said catching up to her.

"It was you who shattered Tiger's Eye, wasn't it?"

Jasper threw her head back and laughed, in a manner reminiscent of Gilgamesh.

"Yes, and I'd do it again! You and your traitorous Crystal Gems, Rose...I will not stop until all of you are nothing but shards in the mud!"

"Enough…"

"What?" Jasper sneered.

"I said enough!" Rose shouted, her eyes a passionate pink color. "I had to do it. For the sake of this planet, and the humans that live here. I don't expect you to understand, Jasper, but you have to! Can't you see how valuable this planet is?"

She spread her arms, inviting Jasper to look around. If Rose was looking to prove how beautiful the Earth was, Garnet thought, this wasn't the best place to do it. As if on cue, there was a clanging of metal and snapping of wood as one of the vendors tents behind them collapsed.

"Enough words. This only ends one of two ways. You defeat me, or I shatter you and the rest of your Crystal Gems. And I have no intention of losing."

Rose summoned her shield, but kept her sword sheathed. Behind the fierce pink light in her eyes, Garnet could see a vacancy, the same kind in Carocol's eyes.

"I will defend myself," she said, in as fierce a voice as she could manage.

"I expected nothing less...ha!"

Jasper pushed off her back foot, ramming her head into Rose's shield. The momentum went in Jasper's favor, as Rose was launched onto the beachhead, barely managing to stay on her feet. She raised her shield just in time as Jasper jumped in the air and rolled into a ball, coming down on Rose like a meteor. The resulting explosion scattered sand in all directions, forcing Garnet to stop and cough as the stuff tickled her throat and lungs.

When the sand cleared, they were standing apart as before. Rose's shield was still raised in one hand, but she was clutching her abdomen with the other.

"And I thought this would be a challenge," Jasper said. "I haven't even broke a sweat yet."

Rose finally drew her sword, pointing it at Jasper's head.

"If you think the sword that shattered Pink Diamond is gonna do the same to me, you're mistaken."

Rose opened her mouth to respond, but stopped. Garnet watched in awe as Rose sheathed her sword, and pulled Pearl's gem out. She studied it sadly, a single tear appearing in her eye.

"You win." Rose's shield disappeared, and she held her arms out so that she was completely vulnerable. "I won't put my friends in danger anymore."

Jasper narrowed her eyes, and her headgear disappeared as well. For a wild second, Garnet believed Jasper had surrendered, until she curled into a ball again, gathering energy for what would certainly be the finishing blow.

Finally, Jasper emerged with a wild look in her eye, and with a final, savage smile, exploded forth.

Rose had expected to feel pain, to be flattened by Jasper's power, and in fact she was launched into the heavy air. The force, however, was not so great that she could not adjust in midair and land on her feet, and upon landing safely, she realized the intended collision had not taken place. Jasper was kneeling where Rose had been standing before, heaving as if every breath hurt. A pair of familiar goggles lay in the sand before her, and just as Rose realized what had happened, she found Garnet lying facedown in the sand at least fifty feet away.

Not even Rose could imagine the physical pain Garnet was in, and how Ruby and Sapphire were fighting with all of their strength to keep both their individual gems and their fusion from destabilizing.

_Just a little longer, c'mon Sapph…_

_ I can't, I'm just not...as strong as you…_

_ Yes you are, you just have to believe…_

_ I...can't see us...staying together…_

_ Yes you can...just look at me…_

Rose put her hand on Garnet just as her form began to glow, extra limbs appearing in impossible places as her fusion grew increasingly unstable.

"Don't give in Garnet, keep it together," Rose whispered, trying to hide the urgency in her voice.

"You worthless rock…"

Rose could hear the soft sound of Jasper trudging through the sand towards her. A wave of water swept over her and Garnet, cold and unforgiving. But she couldn't give up on Garnet. There was so much about fusion she didn't know; would Garnet stay unfused forever if they came apart in this state?

"You rely on your friends to fight your battles for you."

There was the familiar hum of gem technology, and Rose knew Jasper had reactivated her headgear.

"Garnet, please," Rose said, and this time she could not stop the desperation from creeping in. Already, Sapphire's long, flowing hair was beginning to grow where Garnet's had been.

"Nobody will be able to save you now," Jasper said, her voice only a few feet behind Rose. But Jasper was wrong, for somebody was observing her from the streets of Goldstarch.

The sight of Garnet being nearly split in half from the impact had awoken Carocol from his trance, now observing the beachhead where Rose was kneeling over the fusion, who was slowly but surely coming undone. Rose would not turn and fend off Jasper, Carocol knew this to be true, but if she did not, she would die.

The image Garnet had shown him still haunted him, was still replaying in his mind, but the sight before him was now even more distressing. Suddenly, all of the emotion that had kept him rooted to the spot was beginning to change. Manifesting itself into something new, something powerful. The energy was concentrated in his mind and his heart, those two conflicting forces that drive one's life, but soon began to flow between one another through the many channels in his body.

With the two connected, Carocol found the strength to stand, the instinct to grab his blade, and the strength to charge at Jasper, who only turned just in time for Carocol's sword to plunge through her chest. She only managed a short gasp of air, before her form exploded, showering Carocol in dust and other gem matter. All that remained of her was a single orange teardrop, her gem, which hit the sand with a short _piff._

"Garnet, it's okay now…" Rose cooed. "Garnet...Garnet!"

Carocol turned just in time to catch Rose shaking Garnet like a sack of flour, which only seemed to distort her figure even more.

"Rose, stop!" Carocol shouted, prying Rose off of Garnet. She fell on top of Carocol in the sand, looking back at him at first in awe. Soon, however, her desperation kicked in, and Carocol had to grab her shoulders to hold her back.

"I can't lose Garnet, I just can't!"

"You're going to make it worse, just let her go…"

"NO!"

Something hit Carocol's forehead with such force that his eyes began to water, his strength wavering just long enough for Rose to squirm free. When Carocol felt it safe to open his eyes, however, Rose was looking down on him, a hand over her mouth.

"Oh Carocol, I...I didn't mean to…"

Carocol rubbed the space of forehead over his left eye, which felt swollen to the touch, and slowly got to his feet. Garnet, meanwhile, was in dire straits, and it was at once the most bizarre and horrifying thing he had ever seen. What had once been Garnet was now a glowing, amorphous mass of limbs and shapes, and even with her features obscured, her mouth was agape in pain. He could hear Ruby and Sapphire's hurried whispers slowly growing louder, Ruby pleading with Sapphire to keep the fusion together.

"Thank you Garnet," Carocol said, putting a hand on one of the sprouting legs. As he did so, the process of unfusing stopped. "I'm not mad at you for showing me the truth. Thanks to you, I have something greater than beliefs or a mission. I have you, and Rose, and Alm too."

Rose watched in awe, as every word Carocol spoke seemed to reverse the unfusing process a bit more.

"I understand why you fuse. Sometimes, you have to compromise what you know, what you believe, to become something greater. To be a part of something. We both have something to fight for, as do Rose and Alm. Before, I would have let you go, but now, we need you Garnet."

Garnet's form was almost back to normal, and the white silhouette around her was beginning to dissolve.

"I need you Garnet."

With those final words, Garnet was finally reunited. A few seconds later, she lifted her head off the sand, wrapping her arms around her shoulders, almost as if she were hugging herself.

After a few moments of allowing Garnet to get reacquainted with herself, Rose came over and embraced her gently.

"Garnet, I...I don't know what to say."

"It's not your fault, Rose. Jasper would've destroyed you."

"It's not just that, it's...I didn't know what to do when I saw you unfusing. I need to be better than that, I…"

She felt a hand on her shoulder, and was surprised to see Carocol standing over her.

"Happens to the best of us."

Rose immediately embraced Carocol instead, which allowed Garnet to get to her feet.

"Did you mean what you said?"

Carocol nodded.

"Why...the sudden change of heart?"

Carocol and Garnet exchanged meaningful glances.

"Past vision," they said simultaneously. None of them were sure what was so funny, but they began to laugh anyway, a wonderful sensation Carocol had scarcely felt in his life.

"What about Jasper?"

They stared down at the orange gemstone, which was breaking the flow of water ever so slightly. Garnet went over to it knelt down.

"Don't."

Garnet looked back at Rose with a quizzical expression.

"They're coming for us anyway. It would be a waste of a bubble."

With that, Garnet stepped back. The tide washed up stronger than it had all evening at that point, and the trio watched as the sea took Jasper's gem with it.

Just when they though the night's events were over, however, Rose gasped in Carocol's ear.

"Alm! He's in danger!"

All three exchanged brief glances, staring in the direction of downtown Goldstarch.

"Is he still at the inn?"

"I don't know, I...I was in such a hurry to find you I don't know if he followed. We have to hurry and help him!"

"You won't make it."

All three pairs of eyes widened, as they turned to face the source of the familiar voice. There, in his full armor, accompanied by a legion of cavaliers that towered over them on the backs of their mares, was Fernand, wearing a smile only a noble could.


	21. Chapter 21: The Phantom Command

Chapter 21: The Phantom Command:

"Alm…"

"Grandpa…?"

Alm and Mycen were standing only a few feet apart, beneath the Ram windmill, which was squeaking in a Flostym breeze.

"Grandpa!" he cried. He wanted to run, but he couldn't move.

"You have grown much, as I had anticipated. But there is still much to do…"

The setting changed, so that they were standing knee-deep in an endless brown bog. The sun was on the horizon, so that the land was black and ambiguous like the bark of a great ebony tree.

"Are you ready?"

He recalled Mycen having said that, some time long ago.

"You haven't told me what I should be ready for," Alm said, even though his mouth hadn't moved. The setting changed again; they were on the edge of a cliff, overlooking a misty abyss. In the distance, however, Alm could make out the battlements and towers of a castle twice the size of Ram Village, obsidian-black even under the full moon.

"Grandfather, I said you haven't told me what to be ready for," Alm repeated, for his grandfather's figure was slowly disappearing.

"Are you ready, my prince?"

"Grandfather, what are you talking about...!"

"Are you ready, my prince?" a voice repeated, though it did not belong to Mycen.

Alm gasped as he woke from the dream. He had worn his armor to bed, and he could feel sweat clinging to the cold steel. The old mattress groaned as he pushed himself up, looking around the room and expecting to see the silhouettes of his friends.

He rubbed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm himself, his eyes watering as the odor of rotting wood invaded his nostrils.

_Who was that?_

The voice in his dream certainly wasn't Mycen's. He had never heard a voice quite like it, and yet it sounded familiar. Gritty, but imbibed with youth and power at the same time.

The voice in the dream gradually became too distant to recall, and Alm's thoughts returned to his friends. The moon had risen considerably since he had laid down to rest. Rose had stormed out hours ago, and though he had meant to follow her, he thought twice about it. One always had a right to be alone when they were frustrated, a fact he knew all too well.

Not only was she not back, however; Garnet and Carocol, who had gone their separate ways earlier in the night, weren't back either. It wouldn't have surprised Alm to hear that Carocol had finally gone off on his own, but Garnet and Rose's absence worried him far more.

Grabbing a raggy old traveling cloak at the foot of his bed, he prepared to head into town, until he noticed something in the window that hadn't been there before. A large opening, big enough for a child to crawl through.

Before Alm could even begin to imagine what could've gotten into the room, the perpetrator emerged with a screech from the shadows of the room and was upon him. The thing tried to wrap its slimy fingers around Alm's throat, but Alm noticed a silvery gleam at the end of his bed. With his free hand, he grabbed his sword and plunged it through the creatures head, closing his eyes as its foul life fluids drenched his face.

With a final, inhuman groan, the figure slumped over and collapsed onto the floor. He had little time to examine the attacker, however, for the rest of the window shattered, and three more figures crawled through the opening. The first figure to make it inside howled, beckoning the other two to follow as it crawled towards Alm like a four-legged spider.

Alm stood on top of the bed, slashing at the figure as it grabbed his boot. Another one joined Alm on the bed, roaring in his face and wrapping its arms around Alm's waist. Alm plunged his elbow into the thing's chest, but it didn't budge.

He felt something ram into his chest, slamming him against the wall and forcing him down; this was the third revenant. Alm heard the sick crunch of his boot connecting with the first revenant's jaw, but there wasn't much he could do about the other two. A slimy hand wrapped around his throat, the other revenant pinning his sword arm with its entire body. The smell of rotten flesh made his eyes water, his throat too dry to call out for help. There were a few more thuds, followed by more demonic screeching, and more of the things were upon him. He felt his sword slipping out of his hands, and he didn't have the strength to make a final, desperate slash…

There was a flash of orange light. The revenant's screeching in his ears deafened him, making the scene even more confusing. The revenants scrambled around the room like trapped flies, looking for a way out as the light burned their eyes. Alm's strength returned to him, but as he grasped his sword tightly again and prepared to rampage for his life, there was an explosion of wood and dust as the wall exploded. Men in the crimson armor of Rigel began to storm the room.

Alm fought back a rueful laugh, as he considered the prospect of fighting both Rigelian soldiers and the undead. Recognizing the greater danger living soldiers presented when compared to dead ones, Alm raised his blade towards the Rigelians. To his surprise, however, the soldiers instead brought their weapons down upon the undead. It took only half a minute for the soldiers to bring the revenants down, leaving a mound of rotten flesh in the center of the room.

Before the soldiers could officially declare their victory in the bizarre battle, Alm grabbed the knight closest to him from behind and backed against the wall, placing his sword over the knight's throat.

"The hell are you doing?" one of the men yelled. He had a long, white beard, and his armor was charred and scuffed all over, the mark of a berserker.

"That's my line," Alm said through gritted teeth. The knight in his grip began to pant nervously; he couldn't have been older than a squire. "How did you find us?"

One of the priests in the party ignited a Torch staff, bathing the now very crowded bedchamber in orange light.

"Holding a boy hostage? That's not very Zofian of you."

Alm's heart beat furiously as Fernand entered the room, electing to use the doorway rather than stepping over the remains of the wall. Berkut appeared to have a hostage as well; Alm recognized the old woman that had greeted him when he arrived in Goldstarch.

"You'll all pay dearly for this, unholy traitors!" she screeched. "Duma shall feed me the flesh on your faces, and the rest will go to the maggots!"

"Do shut up," Fernand said, observing the pile of corpses. "You've caused enough trouble tonight as it is."

"Where are my friends!?" Alm bellowed.

"We're right here, Alm."

Rose, Garnet, and Carocol stepped into the room, undeterred by the presence of the Rigelian soldiers.

"Any reason you're trying to slice a human's head off?" Garnet asked coolly, but the squire gulped nonetheless. Alm slowly loosened his grip on the boy, until he shook free and crawled along the floot until he was hiding behind the berserker.

"Perhaps I shall explain…" Fernand started, but Alm cut him off.

"No, Rose can."

Fernand's eyes flashed at being interrupted, but he nodded at Rose to continue.

"Alright," Rose said, stepping in between Alm and the soldiers. "Fernand tells me he came here to protect you."

Alm cast Fernand a bewildered look.

"Okay, you win. Explain."

"My orders came from the emperor himself. He sensed you were in danger, and so dispatched me and my best men to find you."

"Why?"

"As Rose said, to protect you."

"You and the crown prince have been hunting me down since before I even crossed the Rigelian border, and now you're both trying to protect me?"

"The crown prince has nothing to do with this. As I stated, the orders came from the emperor himself."

"Why?" Alm repeated. Fernand uttered an exasperated sigh.

"I have been told that I cannot tell you why. To be frank, I have no idea why either, but the emperor's word is law."

"This won't make Berkut very happy," Alm said with a smirk. Something flickered in Fernand's stoic expression.

"I am his most trusted vassal," he responded automatically. "Surely...he will understand."

"Next question," Alm said, nodding at the woman. "What's the deal with her?"

As soon as Alm referenced her, she managed to shake herself free of Fernand's grasp, but two knights grabbed her by the arms before she could charge at Alm.

"You false-blood! I will feast on you first!"

"This is Abola, a high-ranking priestess of the Duma Faithful. She's known as the Flesh Doctor. She lured you here so her revenants could devour you."

"Charming," Alm said. The woman spat at Alm's feet. "Any reason you want my flesh?"

"She wanted ours too," Carocol said in a light tone Alm hadn't heard from him before.

"On the contrary my pink friend, your flesh was an unintended garnish for the main course. Duma himself desires the boy's flesh."

There was a collective shudder in the room. Even Fernand cast Abola a nervous glance.

"Duma himself wants me dead?"

"Yes, and I oh so nearly carried out his demands," the woman said, before directing her venom towards Fernand again. "But these traitors decided to interfere."

"I did so only at the behest of my king," Fernand said, in the same frightened voice he used in the presence of Gilgamesh.

"Duma will not discriminate, noble brat," Abola snickered. "And I shall be free in time to tell him of your betrayal."

"Take her outside," Fernand said to the two knights. The sounds of her cackling persisted until she was taken downstairs

"My work is complete, boy, and I shall return to the capital," Fernand said, adjusting his cloak in an attempt to compose himself. "I understand you will likely follow, something the emperor has anticipated as well, but know this. When next we meet, it will be on the field of battle, and I will be serving the crown prince."

Carocol drew his sword. The sound of screeching steel prompted the remaining soldiers to draw their arms as well.

"Sheathe your weapons," Fernand said. "No blood will be shed tonight. This is only a warning. Come, we return home."

Carocol and Fernand locked eyes as the latter maneuvered around him and out the door, the soldiers in tow. As soon as they were gone, Rose wrapped her arms around Alm.

"Oh you poor thing! I should never have left you alone, I…"

"It's fine Rose. We're all struggling for different reasons. Fate may have brought us together, but I understand that our causes and struggles are ultimately very different."

Alm turned to Carocol. The sharpness in his features had lessened considerably.

"I suppose I owe you an apology, Carocol. I have kept you from your ambitions."

Carocol smiled, and Alm was surprised to see that it was not one of malice or sarcasm, but of genuine empathy.

"There is a lot we need to discuss," Rose said. "But for now, we should get some sleep. Although…"

Rose put a hand over her nose, as the stench of rotten flesh finally overcame her.

"Who's gonna pick up this mess?"

The answer came in the form of the glowing gem in Rose's hand. Alm watched in awe as it floated towards the ceiling, cycling through many different forms and shapes, before finally the light died away, and Pearl was once again in the flesh. She looked a bit different this time around: her hair was a bit longer than before, and her attire was a lighter shade of blue.

"Ah, very nice. This is a good length for my hair...Gah!"

She jumped back as her eyes fell upon the pile of corpses on the floor. Garnet grabbed her shoulder and smiled, which seemed to reassure her, although she still gazed rather uncomfortably at the remains of the inn wall and put a hand over her nose.

"Uh, what did I miss?"

Rose moved across the room and wrapped her arms around her in response, laughing through her tears. In that moment, Pearl forgot about the strange scene around her, and returned the embrace with a giggling laugh of her own. Garnet joined in and, upon meeting her gaze, Alm knew he had little choice and joined in. He was pleasantly surprised when a fifth set of arms wrapped around them too.

"Wakey wakey, Jasper…"

It was the last voice Jasper wanted to hear after failing a mission, second perhaps to the Diamonds. Her eyes opened to the familiar striped ceiling of the handship, although it seemed to be a different shade of green than she remembered, almost a yellowish color. Aquamarine's wingbeats lapped against her eardrum like the tide of a small pond. The little blue gem landed behind Jasper's head and leaned over, so their eyes met.

"You brought me back to the handship?"

The little blue gem giggled, dodging as Jasper reached out to choke the answer out of her.

"_A_ handship, yes, but not _the _handship I'm afraid."

It only took a moment for it to dawn on Jasper where she really was. Before she could point it out, a tremendous force lifted her off the ground and slammed her against the wall. The hand lifted Jasper's chin, so that she was face-to-face with a sneering Yellow Diamond.

"You actually...told her…" she gasped, as Aquamarine circled Jasper's head like a hungr mosquito.

"Shut up," Yellow bellowed, her face now only an inch from Jasper's. "I could shatter you for this act of insubordination."

"My Diamond...I...urk!"

She was compressed against the wall even more, so that she could barely breathe.

"Be silent! I have no interest in hearing your excuses. You are supposed to set an example for the other quartzes, and instead you disobey a direct order and charge carelessly into enemy territory. What did you hope to gain, Jasper?"

"R...revenge…" Jasper gasped.

"You are not a vigilante, you are a gem soldier. We are a cut above such petty organic emotions. Thankfully for you, the happy power to grind your gem into dust still technically resides with...with Pink…"

Yellow's hold on Jasper lessened slightly at the mention of Pink.

"But I assure you, if you were in my court, your shards would be floating through the cosmos."

She stared Jasper down for a few moments, before allowing her to collapse on the floor of the ship.

"Pick yourself up, it is time I filled you in on our next course of action regarding the Earth."

"Wait a moment!"

Aquamarine stared indignantly at Yellow Diamond.

"I brought Jasper back here so you could punish 'er! Why are we including 'er in our strategy briefing?"

"I'm sorry," Yellow Diamond began. Jasper couldn't help but smirk as Yellow grabbed Aquamarine by the wings and lifted her into the air, regarding her like a frog would stalk a juicy fly. "Are you questioning my authority?"

"N-no, of c-course not…"

If there was anything that could shake the disappointment of a failed mission, it was seeing Aquamarine squirm.

"While you did the right thing by reporting Jasper to me, you also did nothing to stop her. Not to mention, you have missed several important briefings, including the one where Pink's...accident was brought up. If you were my gem, you too would feel my wrath. Consider yourself lucky that Blue is still unable to govern in her current state…"

Yellow flicked Aquamarine away, watching her crash into the wall on the other side of the ship face-first.

"You both have failed in your missions, but unfortunately you are the only commanders available under the constraints of our current timetable. Do not fail me again."

Jasper and Aquamarine crossed their arms over their chests in the Diamond salute simultaneously, the latter casting the former a furious glance before Yellow continued.

"Jasper, we have obtained the remains of the other Jasper you fought a few days ago. While I would normally commend you for a job well done, your recent failure weighs far too heavily on me."

A container with floating gem shards emerged from the console in the center of the ship. Yellow shook the container, so that the shards scattered and bounced around.

"This may prove useful in the near future, Jasper. White Diamond, in her brilliance and undistilled luster, shared the intelligence of a creature living deep beneath the Earth's surface. She believes that a recent cosmic event may have awoken the beast, and that it will emerge very soon. We need to make sure that happens."

"Why?" Jasper asked, adding in a quick "my Diamond."

"I thought we had surrendered the planet to those Crystal Gems," Aquamarine added.

"We have, but that does not mean we cannot leave a parting shot...by destroying it altogether."

Aquamarine was just as confused as Jasper.

"You see, this beast is larger than any known beast in our alien files. Its emergence will be more than enough to shatter the planet from its core. That means everyone, from those pitiful organics, to our enemies, will be destroyed."

The thought of Rose, screaming as her precious planet was ripped apart before her very eyes like Pink Diamond had been, made Jasper's heart burn with a savage pleasure.

"Wait! I remember now!" Aquamarine piped up. Yellow glared menacingly at her for being interrupted, but nodded for her to continue. "A human had des-I mean, I was hiding in the rainforest one night when two weird humans approached my location. They were talking about something that could destroy the world...Do you think they know about it?"

Yellow Diamond leaned against the ship's window, which overlooked a bottomless orange canyon. Small balls of yellow light were illuminating within the canyon, which Jasper realized were lights from those organic gathering places called "cities."

"I suppose it is possible; after all, it is their homeworld."

"These humans wanted to use it too, but they said they only wanted to change the world, not destroy it…"

"And why didn't you report this to me?" Yellow Diamond barked, adopting her trademark stentorian tone once again. Aquamarine made the Diamond salute again, this time with trembling arms.

"Well, hehe...I didn't think it was important, since I thought we were leaving this planet altogether."

Yellow Diamond put a hand on her forehead.

"Why Blue ever appointed you…" she muttered. "You are supposed to report every finding to me!"

"I...I…" Aquamarine stuttered.

"If there are humans suddenly involved, you know the Crystal Gems will be as well. Jasper, that is where you will come in. I will allow you to command the first platoon, should we encounter any hostiles."

"Why does she get the first platoon? She disobeyed a direct order from the Diamonds!"

"Your violation of protocol has proven to be much more costly," Yellow Diamond fired back at the little blue gem, who blushed and landed on the floor with her wings depressed. "You shall command the second platoon, should the first fail."

"Yes, my Diamond," Aquamarine mumbled.

"Once the planet is destroyed, and the creature is weakened by the lack of atmosphere, White and I will capture it. Any further questions?"

Jasper knew better than to ask anything more, although she was curious as to what the Diamonds intended to do with the beast.

"In short time, this planet will be gone, and we can forget all about her…"

There was a dull pang in Jasper's heart, and from the silence that followed, it was clear that same pang had struck Yellow Diamond as well.

"You are dismissed," Yellow Diamond said, and without another word, she disappeared into her chamber. Jasper and Aquamarine stared one another down. Even though they had their differences, the reminder of Pink Diamond's death and the gravity of the mission before them forged an unspoken agreement between the two.

They would acknowledge each other once more when a single sob echoed throughout the ship, originating from Yellow Diamond's chamber.


	22. Chapter 22: Bedside Orders

Chapter 22:

"Stupid!"

The lightning-blasted tree that had led Bismuth and her friends astray earlier that day creaked and moaned under the weight of her fist, before finally snapping and crashing to the ground.

"Stupid!" she repeated, this time slicing at the thick trunk of a nearby willow tree, angrily swatting the falling branches out of her face. The willow tree began to tip over from the force of Bismuth's cut, and she jumped out of the way just as one of the branches tried to wrap itself around her.

"Stupid...stupid…"

The thoughts of homeworld, of Tiger's Eye, of Celica being dragged off by that Gilgamesh guy, evaporated. Bismuth turned back to see the results of her frenzy; a labyrinth of fallen trees, leaves of orange and yellow covering the snowy ground. A lavender mist was beginning to overtake the forest air, emanating out of the orifices of the fallen trees. It had no smell, and yet Bismuth found herself oddly at peace.

Bismuth unclenched her fists, and sat against the fallen trunk of the willow tree. She looked down at her hands, chipped and scraped. Splinters and other organic shrapnel punctured her skin, resembling shattered gem shards.

It wasn't the first time her frustration had boiled over like this. There had been a battle between the Crystal Gems, back when they were at full strength, against Holly Blue Agate's platoon in a forest much like this one. They were protecting a human settlement the Diamonds had targeted for gathering specimens for Pink Diamond's Human Zoo.

Rose had fought with every ounce of strength in her gem, so that a pile of quartzes and citrines lay beneath her feet. Bismuth and the other gems fought with similar vigor, even though their strength paled in comparison to hers, so that by the time Holly Blue entered the battle themselves, they could barely hold their weapons.

"Don't back down!" Rose called, but even her voice seemed shallow and weak. Bismuth and Rose's Pearl had been fighting back-to-back for most of the battle, so Bismuth had a clear view of Holly Blue wrapping Pearl in her whip, and destabilizing her with its kinetic energy in a moment of seconds. Bismuth, who had only recently come into being, had never seen a gem lose its form before, and assumed Holly Blue had just destroyed her friend.

Bismuth forgot where she was, and instead fell to the ground, wrapping her arms around Pearl's gem, hoping that at any moment she would somehow emerge and rejoin the battle.

There was a pang in her gem, and she looked up just in time to see Holly Blue, whip wrapped around Rose's torso, shocking her just as she had Pearl. Bismuth could not allow another friend to be destroyed on this day. Bismuth bounded forward with the strength of three Rose's, smashing through anything that stood between her and Holly Blue, homeworld or crystal gem or otherwise. Holly Blue only turned just in time to receive a punch right in the nose, the force sending her crashing through two tree trunks before landing in a thicket of some thorny plant.

"What have you done?" Rose asked, once Bismuth had helped her to feet. The stinging of knietic energy against her gem seemed to jumpstart Bismuth's conscience.

"Saved you," Bismuth said. She turned back to see the Crystal Gems, moaning and rubbing their heads.

Bismuth knew how dangerous she could be when she was angry...too dangerous, according to Rose. From then on, Bismuth's role within the Crystal Gems seemed to diminish. When Rose presented her with her very own weapons smithery for the first time, Bismuth knew the reason why; to keep her away from the battlefield.

The mission with Tiger's Eye had been her first operation in over a century. She was sure news of Tiger's Eye's shattering had reached Rose, as had the news of the massacre that followed. There was no way she would return to Rose after that.

Which had led her to Celica. The first human Bismuth had ever felt any connection with (at least, until Saber joined the group a few minutes later). Even though memories and visions of Tiger's Eye continued to haunt her, Celica and Saber had given her a purpose. But now, they too were gone; Celica captured, and Saber surely hunting for her "master."

Bismuth gritted her teeth at the thought of Saber, hopelessly pursuing the girl even though she was no match for Gilgamesh. What had Celica done to earn the privilege of being someone's "master?" And why did Rose defend humans like them so, when they seemed to have even fewer scruples than gemkind?

"If you continue your rampage, I will prevent you."

Bismuth stopped just short of slicing another willow tree in half, and turned around to see Halcyon and Saber, frowning at her. Torn between exasperation and relief at seeing Saber, Bismuth's hands returned to their normal shape.

"My Master would not want you to destroy the forest."

"Yeah, but she's your master, not mine. I'm my own gem, Saber."

"That may be, but you decided to come with us back. If you truly are a proud warrior, then you will help us find her."

Bismuth sighed and unclenched her fists.

"I'm done here. I'm going to find Rose. Don't get in my way."

"The sword you were trying to repair...I've done it."

Bismuth faced Halcyon, unable to hide the glint in her eyes.

"And?"

"Saber tells me you are quite the blacksmith. Unfortunately, not even you would have been able to fix this blade. It's imbued with divine magic, meaning only those high-ranking sages of the Duma or Mila faithful could effectively piece it together again."

"Why am I supposed to care?" Bismuth responded, folding her arms to appear more intimidating, though she couldn't hide the slightest smirk as Halcyon withdrew the sword from its sheath.

"This is more than a sword. It is a key of sorts, to a weapon far greater than any known weapon in existence."

_On Earth, maybe, _Bismuth thought to herself.

"Here," he said, stepping forward and placing it in Bismuth's hand. To her, it was nothing more than an ordinary dagger, one an Emerald pirate would likely use. If this were truly a legendary weapon, or a placekeeper for a better weapon, it certainly didn't feel like one.

"That's great and all," Bismuth said, handing the weapon back to Halcyon. "But my adventure with y'all ends here. I've got my own war to fight…"

"This is no longer your own war," Saber said, her eyes flashing. "You, and every other creature that draws breath on this planet, is now a player in Gilgamesh's game. If he awakens Duma, everyone loses."

Bismuth sighed, sitting on the trunk of the willow tree she had felled. Knowing Rose, she was involved in the conflict as well, meaning Garnet, Pearl, and the other surviving Crystal Gems were fighting as well.

"From your expression, I gather this 'Rose' is the type who will challenge Gilgamesh, am I correct?"

_Yes, because the Earth saved her._

But what had the Earth ever done for Bismuth? Taken away her best friend? Marooned her and her allies from the Homeworld where they had been raised?

"Rejoin your friends if you wish," said Saber, turning her back on Bismuth and heading north. "But take it from someone with experience...if you fight for something, you must be prepared to lose those you care about along the way."

Halcyon and Bismuth watched as Saber's form was slowly obscured by the purple fog.

"Who was it?" Bismuth asked, before Saber could completely disappear. "I saw it in your eyes this morning. You've lost someone too. Was it your best friend?"

Saber paused.

"He was more than a friend."

Saber sprinted ahead. The fog dissipated soon enough, but not before Saber was gone.

"...Leave us…"

The voice was like the hissing of a snake in Rudolf's ear. He heard the heavy thumping of his guards leaving his bedside, followed by the creaking of heavy wooden doors slowly shutting. He felt a hand wrap around his left foot, two fingers traversing the surface of his skin, checking for any sign of weakness.

"Remarkable," Berkut said listlessly. "Some would say you cling to life like a sloth to a tree."

"And...what would you say?" Rudolf rasped, the room slowly swimming into view. Hazy sunlight filtered into the room. A thin layer of dust was kicked up with every step Berkut took towards his bedside, milling in the pale light of the room. Rudolf could not remember a time his chamber had been so filthy, and even as he placed a hand on his bedside dresser for a second in order to prop himself up, he could feel a layer of grime cling to his hand.

"I would call you a corpse who does not know he is dead."

"So, you know what I know."

Berkut's practiced smile flickered.

"And what's that?"

"That you plan to kill me and take the throne."

Berkut rested a hand on Rudolf's forehead.

"Careful, old man. Don't let the sickness cloud your judgment. That is a serious accusation to level against your own flesh and blood."

"Then what is this gargoyle-piss your wife has forced down my throat?"

Rudolf cocked his head in the direction of a clay goblet at his bedside, containing a green liquid. It was half empty.

Berkut didn't answer, instead moving towards the window, observing the endless mountains flanking the castle.

"The sun may be out, but today will be frightfully cold. It is certainly not a good day to be traveling…"

Rudolf knew what the boy was hinting at, but he would not show signs of surprise or fear. Bedridden as he was, the heart of a lion beat within Rudolf, and he was still emperor.

"Strange, how even when the Earth wishes to be cold, the sun still rises everyday in a vain attempt to warm us. Clinging to power even when it has none."

Berkut's reflection in the dusty window smirked.

"Last night, Fernand and a task force of soldiers left the castle without reporting their intentions. You wouldn't have anything to do with it, would you, Emperor?" Berkut asked, placing venomous emphasis on "Emperor."

Rudolf said nothing.

"Fernand is my commandant, and I gave no order for him to travel into the Rigelian mountains. Even if that is where the criminal Alm and his alien cohorts were last sighted."

Rudolf turned to the boy, smiling placidly. Never had the emperor looked so content to Berkut, even as he was surely racked with pain.

"You realize that Alm and his friends are certainly drumming up a foolhardy plan to attack the capital, _your _castle, in desperation? I would expect you to show a bit more concern."

The particles of dust floating around the room began to attract one another. Rudolf decided to focus on this instead of Berkut.

"Very soon, it will no longer be my empire to rule. You and I both know that."

Berkut rubbed his shoulders and shook.

"It's a bit cold in here, don't you think? Perhaps I should light a fire?"

Berkut moved to the fireplace, placing his hand upon Rudolf's favorite shield, a crimson one with the eye of the Rigelian Dragon emblazoned in platinum upon the front. He had wielded it in the Battle of Ashinigre, the most glorious day of his life, when his forces handed the Zofians their first defeat in that conflict so long ago. Now, he couldn't help but feel a prickle of anger as the young man moved his hand over its smooth surface, before reaching for the poker just beneath it. He moved the wood back in place, and a few moments later a small orange fire flickered to life.

"Why not just end it now?" Rudolf said. "If you wish to take the throne, take my blade from above the mantelpiece and plunge it through my heart."

Berkut's eyes flashed to the greatsword hanging above the crimson shield, the platinum of the hilt glowing imperiously in the light of the fire. While the shield possessed the eye of the Rigelian Dragon, the sword's hilt possessed the texture of the Dragon's scales.

"I have no intention of murdering you...but if we were to entertain the notion, why would I make it so obvious? Why not go under the pretense that you simply fell ill, and passed away peacefully in your chamber?"

Rudolf's flowing gray hair partially fell over his face, so only one powerful eye regarded Berkut.

"Your heart is weak."

Berkut's stare intensified.

"You cannot stomach glory. You cannot stomach conflict. You cannot stomach the emotions that come with taking someone else's life. So you let your wife do it, and poison her heart in the process?"

"Don't you dare…"

"Your wife's heart is stronger than yours. You should know that she was obedient to you, and did indeed feed me whatever this goblin gargle is to me each night. But every time before she did, I could see some of the light leave her eyes…"

"And what do you know about her!?" Berkut said, casting the poker aside, sending logs of firewood tumbling across the floor. "She is my wife, your blood only by marriage. My destiny is her destiny, and the new world we will create, we shall rule together."

Rudolf closed his eyes, and attempted to rub his temple, though his fingers were too numb to feel anything. The dust particles he had been studying before had moved closer together, and though it seemed to be a trick of the light, they looked like the outline of a person.

"Your wife's heart is stronger than yours," Rudolf repeated, his voice stronger than it had been in months. "In the beginning she did pour the poison down my throat, but after seeing the effects, she has held back! That is why I can speak to you today!"

"No, you-"

"Listen to me!" Rudolf said as loudly as his voice would allow. "Destiny is not a gift, it is something that one attains through their actions! You can start today towards a better destiny! I do not know who or what has poisoned your mind, but it is not too late to turn back."

Berkut tore at his hair with his hands and emitted a horrible mix of a bark and a shriek. In three violent steps, Berkut had grabbed Rudolf by his cheeks and pulled the old man's face close to his.

"Shut up! You know nothing about me or my wife! We will rule this world, and if we need to sit upon your decaying body, so be it!"

Berkut shoved Rudolf's face away from him, the rapidity of the motion making Rudolf's vision blurred. When his vision returned, Berkut was standing over him again, the goblet of poison in hand.

"If I must pour this down your throat, I will…"

Berkut pushed his fingers under Rudolf's lips, forcing his mouth open. Resist as Rudolf might, the young man was surprisingly strong, and a manic expression Duma himself would fear had spread against his face. Rudolf tried to move his legs, tried to put his arms over Berkut's face, but they hung limp like the frozen branches of a tree on a windless day.

Just as the cold of the goblet touched Rudolf's lips, just as its contents threatened to cross over the lip and into the emperor's gullet, Berkut turned and chucked it away. It landed in the fire, which exploded for a moment with a bright green flash, before extinguishing itself.

Berkut let the wheezing man collapse upon the bed, before collapsing himself into the armchair before the fire, cradling his head in his arms.

"Perhaps...I was wrong…" Rudolf gasped. "Perhaps...Rinea had foreseen this…"

There was a knock on the door. Berkut nor Rudolf said anything. The knock came again, louder.

"Enter," Berkut said, wiping at his eyes. A young man entered the room, in the crimson slacks typical of a Rigelian squire.

"My lord, I was told to let you know…"

The young man's glance fell on Rudolf, who attempted to smile. His lips seemed to have frozen shut at the sight of the emperor.

"Spit it out," Berkut barked, in an attempt to regain his composure.

"S-Sir Fernand has returned, my Lord."

Berkut stood up and leered down at the boy.

"Take me to him," he said, and with a nod the boy ventured down the hall. With one last glance at the floor of the emperor's bedchamber, he followed. It only took a few minutes for the emperor to fall asleep once more, not aware that the peculiar gathering of dust particles had begun to move towards him.


	23. Chapter 23: Heart of Wyrmstym

A week had passed since the incident in Goldstarch, and already the air and the sky were at the mercy of the heart of Wyrmstym. Each day, snow confounded Alm and his allies, at times so thick they were forced to stop and catch their breath. Even Rose, Garnet, and Pearl, who possessed the heightened strength and vigor characteristic of gems, found their energy greatly depleted by the time night came.

Further complicating matters were the Rigelian soldiers. The closer they got to the capital, the more grizzled and near-indomitable they appeared. The knights wore armor rivaling Duma's scales in durability, toting spears larger than Alm's body over their shoulders as if they were mere potato sacks. Thankfully, the visibility afforded to these titans was rather limited, and so long as they could hide in the openings in the mountain wall or climb down and off the path, they were fine.

The same could not be said for the Rangers. Once prized animal hunters, the Rigelian Rangers were the pride and joy of Rigel's bow corps. Alm had heard the tales of Rangers who could detect a change in color between single flakes of snow; there were several close calls with these men, but somehow, Alm and his allies managed to stay out of sight all the same.

As the capital neared, the paths grew narrower, taller, and enemy troops appeared more frequently and in greater numbers. Alm considered it a miracle that they hadn't encountered any draco knights, men with cast-iron hearts who could tame dragons and fight from the air, for they would be openly visible to any soldiers who traveled by air.

That was until the night of the sixth day of travel, as they camped out in an alcove along the trail. They had just put out their fire for the evening when there came the sounds of heavy armor clanking down the road outside.

"...ridiculous, who do they think they are?"

Alm put a finger to his lips, and craned his neck to hear the two men with thick, inner Rigelian accents.

"I don't blame 'em, meself. Berkut's a stiff one. I guess the myrmidons are next."

"But what message does that send the rest of the continent, eh? That the Rigelian army consists of a bunch of no-good sellswords?"

"Look lad, whether you like it or not the draco knights are the best in the force. They've been livin' large for decades now, and they go' families to feed, they do…"

"But they also have a responsibility to the crown, captain. Where's their sense of honor?"

"Gotta put food on the table this time of year, you do...When you have kids, you'll understand."

Alm ducked back further into the cave as they walked by the entrance, though they were so absorbed in discussion they likely wouldn't have noticed anyway.

"But where will they go? It's not like there are other nations or mercenary leagues that can afford to keep them around…"

"Oh, I reckon 'ey'll find somethin'. Most of 'em have made their money anyway, no point in riskin' their hides anymore."

Their voices slowly grew quieter, until finally Alm couldn't hear them anymore.

It seemed odd to Alm that an entire platoon of soldiers, especially ones held in such regard as the draco knights, would abandon Rigel over a mere pay dispute. He looked to Rose for her thoughts, but remembering that her world had little concept of currency, quickly turned to Carocol instead. He looked just as dumbfounded as Alm.

In regards to Carocol, Alm was beginning to enjoy the Yasha's company. When Pearl attempted to show off for Rose by leading the way down a slippery rock wall, only to tumble and land on her face at the bottom, Carocol would join in the laughter. Still, he remained mostly silent, but he the way he walked with them and not behind them, and the vigor he displayed when he did speak, was refreshing during those cold, long days of travel.

He had meant to ask Rose what the deal was with Carocol's change in attitude, something he thought would be easy to do since Carocol used to sit by himself most of the time. Instead, Carocol always sat close by now, whetting his blade with a nearby rock and half-listening as Rose and Garnet recounted tales of the early days of the Gem rebellion.

Finally, the night before they expected to arrive in the capital, Alm got his chance.

"So instead of 'excuse me, Nephrite, but can I borrow this ship,' Pearl reaches through the window of the Nephrite's ship, grabs the Nephrite by the ears, and pulls her out of the cockpit!"

Pearl blushed as Rose wrapped up her best story yet, and Alm and Garnet both clapped politely.

"Impressive."

Carocol squeezed in between Pearl and Rose, putting a hand on the gem's back.

"I must say, I underestimated you."

"Carocol, can I ask you something?" Alm said, poking at the fire Rose had made by blowing on a stray piece of flint.

"Shoot."

Alm blew on his hands and rubbed them together, letting them hover above the fire.

"What's with the change in personality?"

Carocol's expression was blank.

"You complained the first couple days of our adventure about us dragging you down,

and now you're suddenly gung-ho about coming with us? Perhaps I'm being pessimistic...but

something doesn't seem right."

Garnet shifted slightly.

"It's not like a child of Mila to be so...suspicious. But all the same-" Carocol added quickly, for it would be counter-intuitive to frustrate the boy the night before their biggest battle yet, "I was shown a vision of what life awaits me when I return. Needless to say...I hope to enjoy whatever time I have left here on the mainland."

"That's not good enough for me," Alm said, meeting the Yasha's gaze. "You say it isn't like a child of Mila to be suspicious. It's less like a man of your faith to be so dishonest. You have not held back your criticisms of me or my way of life since the moment we met. If you will truly fight by my side tomorrow, I need to know I can count on you should my life be taken into your hands."

"You have it," Carocol said with a smirk. This was the Carocol Alm knew and half-tolerated.

"I find that hard to believe."

"Fine. As a proud son of the Yasha, you have my word, Alm. My blade is yours to lead, and should your sword arm be stricken down, I shall lend you mine."

"Not enough!" Alm said louder, his voice echoing throughout the ports and formations of the surrounding canyons. The baying of wolves could be heard in the distance in response.

"Who wants a roasted walnut?" Rose asked in a high-pitched voice.

"My reasons for joining you will remain a secret. Frankly, it is a personal and painful memento I alone must deal with. And you should know, I am no longer mandated to complete my pilgrimage to Duma Tower. If I so please, I may return to my homeland at any time. But I am choosing to stay with you."

"I apologize for raising my voice Carocol...but I need to know why you have chosen to come with us."

"C'mon, don't make me feed it Pearl," Rose said, shaking her poker in front of Alm and Carocol's faces in turn. "Fine, Pearl gets it."

"Uh, what?" Pearl said, crawling away from Rose. Before Rose could follow through, however, Garnet reached up and ate it herself.

"Garnet showed me a vision," Carocol answered simply. Garnet gulped, even though she had already swallowed the walnut. "My home is no more. As of now, I am the last Yasha, and I wouldn't do my people proud if I simply returned home.

"In other words..." Carocol sighed. "You're the only semblance of family I have left."

"Oh Carocol…" Rose sighed, wiping a tear from her eye before wrapping Alm and Carocol both into a hug. "We'll see this through to the end together. Finally, I can say it."

"Say what?" Pearl asked, Garnet groaning in response.

"We are the Crystal Deliverance!"

Alm shook his head, and noticed Carocol doing the same.

Carocol woke as something pressed on his shoulder. He looked over to see that Alm had slumped over in his sleep.

He sat still, not wanting to wake the lad. The cool wind tickled his eardrums, a breathy lullaby that was lulling him back to sleep…

Just as his eyes closed for sleep, there was the sound of horseshoes on the mountain path above. Though they were on a ledge beneath the main path, and the half-moon's light concealed them from any curious passersby, Carocol tucked his head instinctively and waited for the rider to pass.

But he did not.

The clip-clopping had come to a halt right above them. Carocol sensed that someone, or something, was looking down at them. He chanced a quick glance at the main path to see, to his horror, a man on horseback looking over the ledge. Even in the limited light the traveler's eyes had a piercing, silvery quality to them.

Finally, after what felt like an hour of sitting still, there was a swift snapping of reins, the bray of a mare, and the traveler continued on his way.

Carocol thought about tailing the man. Finding his band of cronies before they could come back. But then again, there was a long day ahead, and waking Alm would wake the others, and the gems rarely slept as they did on this night.

That, and he had seen that stare somewhere before. Did it belong to an enemy, or a friend? It was impossible for it to be another Yasha. Or was it?

He pondered this for some time, until he happened to see that the moon was already beginning to set, and thin traces of gray could be seen on the horizon, and he closed his eyes for sleep.

It was traditional for any person of Mila's cloth to fast for days on end, but never had Celica gone so long without food or something of substance for so long. She was blindfolded, yes, and hadn't seen anything other than the filthy side of a blacksmith's rag for the past six days. She could tell the brutes that occasionally visited her, forcing frothy drinks and aged cheese down her throat, were Terrors simply from the way they hissed and barked at one another, in a primal language devoid of dialect and reason. That, and the smell.

The smell of her prison wasn't any better. It was a dusty and dry place, and as the days went on her breathing grew labored and haggard in a vain attempt from allowing it in. The terrors came to visit once a day (although it was hard to tell how long a day was), their footsteps and wingbeats echoing off the walls and ceiling. Thankfully, Gilgamesh hadn't visited since the day she had surrendered to him.

But finally, one day, there was a clatter of footsteps that awoke from her slumber, her fifth nap of the day in fact, and she opened her mouth automatically for her daily ration of grool and ale. But this time, there was a voice. Never had the common language been so welcoming to her ears, even as she recognized the voice.

"And there she is," Gilgamesh said. She could sense him moving closer to her, until he ripped the blindfold away. Celica grimaced as she adjusted to the sudden light. The room she was in was no room, but a sort of antechamber. Behind Gilgamesh was a balcony overlooking what must have been a massive hall, for the balcony across the way was barely visible. She craned her head to look out where the sun was coming in, but couldn't make out anything but a gray sky.

"You nauseate me," Celica croaked. Gilgamesh made a sarcastic hissing sound with his nose, and his footsteps drew closer.

"You're lucky I need you alive. And that I am in good spirits. For tonight, we dine to the birth of a changed world."

"And why's that?"

"Have you not heard of the Rigelian King's fate? He is too weak to rule, and has no choice to abdicate full control of the throne to his nephew, my master, Berkut. Soon, Rigel will be under my complete control."

"But didn't the Rigelians start the war? I was under the impression Emperor Rudolf was behind it!"

"No, Berkut and I will be the engineers and rulers of our new world. Rudolf stands in our way as long as he draws breath."

"I shall prevent you," Celica said, to which Gilgamesh guffawed.

"I would like to see it. Unfortunately, the chains that are binding you are made to imprison those with a high level of divinity. Your faith in Mila is your downfall, princess."

A gold portal hummed to life above the man, and a goblet slowly emerged from it. Gilgamesh picked it out of the air.

"I'm sure you are quite tired of the bile these fiends are feeding you. Perhaps this will ripen your spirits."

Celica puckered her lips in defiance as Gilgamesh placed the lip of the goblet against them.

"Now, now, you must be filled with vigor if your power will be absorbed by Duma."

Something blunt and heavy collided with Celica's midsection, forcing her to exhale. Gilgamesh took the chance to pour some of the wine into her mouth. Celica's cheeks bloated as she prepared to expel the stuff, but as soon as the sweet, dry flavor met her tongue, every nerve in her body seemed to loosen up. She pushed the liquid into every corner of her mouth, her spirits lifting like the slow blooming of a flower.

It felt almost sacrilegious to swallow, but eventually the flavor withered and she was forced to do so.

"Now was that so bad?"

Celica said nothing, even as a dribble of the stuff slid down her cheek. Gilgamesh put a finger out to stop its descent, letting it pool in his thumb before sticking it in his mouth.

"Even the holy are tempted in times of hardship to the forbidden taste of my finest culture. Perhaps another?"

Celica nodded, and Gilgamesh poured another mouthful. This second mouthful tasted even better than the first, and her mouth rejoiced at the taste. It was too bad...

Gilgamesh closed his eyes just in time as Celica expelled the liquid at full force. Red liquid dripped from his hair and onto his armor. He wiped it away and cracked his neck impatiently. He put a hand on Celica's cheek, this time digging his fingers into her flesh.

"You are lucky I need you alive," he said one final time, before a golden fire surrounded him and he was gone.


	24. Chapter 24: Arrival at the Capital

Chapter 24:

Alm woke to find his armor covered in a thin layer of snow. The sky was a soothing pink color, the sunrise capturing the distant peaks and mountain spires, but as he attempted to sit up and enjoy the view, a gust forced him back down. He waited for the distant roaring and whistling of the gale to cease, as it swept its way through every opening and chasm like an invisible tongue, before finally pushing himself to his feet.

The air was thin, just as it had been for the past five days, but Alm found it easier to breathe this morning than before. The Rigelian Capital, though long withheld from official maps for strategic purposes, was rumored to be nestled within a valley, the depths of which were comparable to a standard Valentian plain.

Garnet was resting her head against the mountain wall, but Alm could never tell if she were truly sleeping or not. Carocol seemed to be asleep, though he shivered as another gust cut through him. As headstrong as he was, Carocol had never experienced a proper Wyrmstym before. Alm retrieved his armor, dusted the snow off, and covered Carocol with it. He opened his eyes for a brief moment and nodded, which until that point was the most affection Carocol had shown Alm.

It wasn't until he had done this, however, that Alm realized Rose and Pearl were gone. Not wanting to disturb the others, Alm merely sat down where he had been sleeping, believing they had gone to gather food. There was another angry gust, and Alm looked longingly at his armor.

"...it was last night, I swear upon White Diamond's throne…"

Alm wasn't sure if the high-pitched whisper he had just heard was a trick of the wind, but the next sentence he heard convinced him it wasn't so.

"...Garnet, she deserves to know…"

"...can know...and neither can Alm or Carocol…"

The voices were coming from above them. As quietly as he could, he began to scale the mountain wall leading back up to the main road. Once again, the wind proved to be uncooperative, this time blowing from the west and nearly costing him his balance. A thick chunk of stone broke free from the wall, on a collision course with Carocol's head. Whether it was instinct, or merely a lucky move, Alm would never know, but Carocol rolled over on his right side, the rock missing him by the length of a single arrowhead.

Alm finally reached the path, and peered over the edge. A thick layer of snow was covering the ground, making Alm's hands burn. He couldn't hold on like this forever, but something told him that he did not want to be seen.

He recognized Pearl, but the other figure was completely unfamiliar. Perhaps it was the fact that his eyes were at ground level, but this figure towered over Pearl, who was quite tall in her own right. It's hair resembled the head of an elderly flower, held aloft by a slim torso and long, supple legs supported by a matching pair of booties. It looked like one of Celica's childhood dolls had come to life and grown to the height of a dragon.

"I agree, the humans don't need to know who you really are...but Garnet does. She trusts you," Pearl said.

"She would never trust me again if she knew who I really was," the thing said in Rose's voice, and Alm had the strange feeling he was still dreaming. "None of the remaining Crystal Gems would. Someday, when this is all behind us, I'll tell everyone, I can assure you…"

"I'm not saying today, my D-Rose. But soon. We've lost a lot of our friends in this war. For all we know, Bismuth may have met the same fate as Tiger's Eye…"

"Don't say that," the giant said.

"Sorry...But the remaining Crystal Gems need to know who you are, so they'll continue to support you when the war is over."

"But we still don't know when that will be, Pearl. Eventually, yes, Yellow will grow impatient and just let us have this world, even if I was shattered here."

Pearl squeaked loudly at the word 'shattered.'

"Sorry, I meant if Pink was shattered here. I just wish I had more time to prepare for Pink's shattering. That Gilgamesh guy threw a Pebble into our plans."

"Maybe not. Maybe if we can prove Gilgamesh shattered Pink, the Diamonds and their soldiers will leave us alone!"

The giant with Rose's voice shook her head.

"No, the Diamonds would never believe a human could shatter one of their own, no matter how powerful that human might be. I was the last gem spotted near Pink's throne; that's all the Diamonds need."

She stomped the ground, and Alm had to duck as the impact scattered mountain rock in his direction.

"I just want this war to be over. I want to help humans, not fight the Diamonds forever."

The giant sighted, and knelt down before Pearl, putting two giant fingers under the gem's chin.

"I'm sorry Pearl, I just...I hate my normal form."

"But you have to, or your gem would be damaged…"

"I don't care. I want to be Rose"

"My Diam-Rose, you know I'll support anything you do, but we need to think about our kind. Our friends. Bismuth is certainly wandering this continent, alone, scared. She's strong, but that Jasper is stronger than any of us, even you. And if Garnet gets captured, Ruby and Sapphire will be shattered on the spot."

'Rose' placed a hand on Pearl's shoulder as she shivered uncontrollably.

"It's cold here, I'm scared, and I just...I just want to go home…"

"We can't, Pearl. And we made a promise to help Alm see his mission through. We're almost to the final battle. Once this is done, we can find Bismuth. We can reform the Crystal Gems, and take down what remains of the Diamond Authority's forces. My Pearl…"

She lifted Pearl into the air and wrapped her arms around the gem. It was a wonder she didn't crush the gem's lungs.

"It will be okay, I promise…"

The embrace lasted for only a few seconds, before they both began to glow. Alm recalled where he had seen this before, and pulled himself onto the main path to get a clear look. A stray rock was cut loose under Alm's boot, and the blunt sound of it tumbling down the valley echoed off the surrounding mountains. The glowing figures, who had yet to become one, both turned their heads in Alm's direction.

"Alm…." they said simultaneously, before the power of their fusion rebounded and sent them flying away from one another. Rose took the form of the giant for a brief second before reverting to her familiar shape. Pearl was the first to get to her feet, gritting her teeth nervously as Alm stared at the both of them.

The two gems exchanged glances, their mouths trembling and making odd noises.

"I can explain!" Rose began.

"No, I can!" Pearl said louder.

"Pearl, I can tell him," Rose said, but as Pearl opened her mouth Alm simply turned around and began descending back down into the campsite.

By the time Alm returned to the campsite, Carocol had stirred, and handed Alm his suit of armor back with a sheepish expression. Garnet shook her head and got to her feet to greet Alm, but Alm laid down and closed his eyes before she could say anything. Or rather, before he could say anything.

Alm closed his eyes, trying to get to sleep before Rose and Pearl returned, but when he realized it was impossible, decided to feign it instead. It would be a half hour before Pearl and Rose finally returned, and Alm could feel their eyes on him before they too sat down.

The conditions had taken a turn for the worse by the evening. The day had grown warmer, but an overcast sky made the path dark and moody, and a miserable sleet pounded the Crystal Deliverance as they marched towards the capital. Carocol and Garnet were the only ones who seemed in any spirits to continue, while Pearl and Rose hung back behind the party, nervously glancing at Alm when his back was turned to them.

Alm, in turn, glanced nervously in Garnet's direction when her back was turned. Though Garnet seldom looked in his direction when they traveled, he had the feeling that somehow, she knew he was staring at her. He could only hope she couldn't read minds.

Garnet always gave the impression she knew more about the current situation than anyone else, and though it sometimes put him on edge, it was reassuring to know that she was on his side. But now, the roles had been reversed, and Alm knew something Garnet didn't. He wasn't sure what he would tell Garnet, or if he would tell her anything.

Mycen had raised him well. To always tell the truth, even if it was inconvenient. He could remember the day Mycen had taught him that. It had always been Mycen's belief that Alm's focus was better in combat, and so he often shared his philosophies with him as they sparred. On this day, they had spear training, and were practicing in the meadow outside of Ram Village.

"The truth can hurt," he had told Alm that day, before sweeping his leg and pinning him with his training spear. He reached down and helped his grandson to his feet. "For example, you are quite hopeless with the spear."

"Gee, thanks," Alm said. He was 12 at the time, the age boys were the most 'fresh' with their teachers. Alm was no different, but Mycen remained patient with the lad.

"I tell you this because I want you to be a better soldier. To focus on your strengths. I believe we have reached the limits of your expertise with the lance."

"But what if I need to use a spear in battle someday?"

It was a rare sight to see Mycen laughing, but he did at this question, making Alm blush as red as the apples in the orchard surrounding them.

"You forget that I am a specialist with the lance, one of Zofia's best in a past life. Perhaps I was wrong to say 'hopeless,' for you would hold your own against an average brigand or mercenary. But Mila help you if you encounter a spearman quite like myself."

It was true, and Alm's specialty had always been the blade, which was far quicker and less cumbersome than the lance. He had also proven to be a decent shot with a bow.

"Remember Alm," Mycen said, lifting both training spears over his shoulder. "In battle, your life can be cut down in an instant. Your instincts and talent can only get you so far. Life is your most precious resource, and you must have allies who you can trust with it. Allies who do not lie or conceal inconvenient truths. If your partner is poisoned, do you tell them or let them die?"

"Tell them, of course," Alm answered, following Mycen as they walked back towards the village.

"But say the poison has already gotten too far, and their time is borrowed. Would you still tell them, or let them die peacefully, unaware that they are even gone.

Alm was unsure how to answer. He pictured Celica in his arms, sputtering as some unknown toxin poisoned her veins and seized her muscles, her eyes closing as if falling asleep. Perhaps it would be better than if she were to die a sobbing mess.

"You don't know? Perhaps it's true that they would die peacefully, but what if they have a family? Someone they wish to bid farewell too? The trust between soldiers goes beyond the men themselves, but extends to every part of their lives. This, Alm, is the reality of war; you will not serve with mindless minions of a king, but real men and women of principle. And as you put your life and everything you have in their hands, so do they in yours.

"Now, let's get you a sword. Another way of surviving is having the proper weapon…"

Alm had always kept the advice close to his heart, and was always forthcoming with his friends, perhaps a bit too much so at times. Tobin still hadn't forgiven him for ratting him out to his parents about accidentally firing a training arrow into the apothecary, shattering countless bottles of rare potions.

He always told the truth, but why couldn't he do it now? It hadn't been his business when Tobin got in trouble, and this business wasn't his either. Perhaps it was better she didn't know. Then again, how long could Rose maintain the lie? As Pearl had once explained, a gem's power was limited, and expending it by taking new forms, receiving bodily harm, or coping with vast emotions would eventually splinter their gem. No gem, not even a Diamond, was immune to that kind of damage.

So what made Pink Diamond so different?

"W-w-will we reach the capital t-today?" Rose shivered.

"Yes," Alm said, leaving it at that. He couldn't help but resent Rose at this point in time, and the added pressure of keeping her secret when perhaps the most important battle of his life was nearly upon them.

"By nightfall, in fact," Garnet said.

Just as Garnet predictd, night came, and with it came the pitch-black towers of Rigel Castle, barely visible in the limited light. Another ten paces up the hill, and the entire Castle was visible. Two torches had been lit at the castle entrance, bright enough to illuminate most of the surrounding town.

Alm had expected far more from the capital of the mighty Rigel. In fact, it hardly seemed like an improvement over Goldstarch. Hundreds of candlelight windows stared up at them with beady orange eyes. The graystone streets were more like brittle coal, and even from a distance they looked uneven and weak. No villagers paced the streets with their heads buried in discussion, nor did any merchants peddle their goods; instead, legions of soldiers populated the streets like beady black ants, flashing their weapons at anyone who got too close.

The castle itself was as imposing as Alm believed it would be. It was nothing like the sprawling, golden castles of storybooks, but more like a porcupine's back, with spires and towers springing out of the main palace with little regard to dimensions or aesthetic.

"This is impossible! That castle looks impenetrable, and the city guards...we're outmatched," Pearl moaned, her face even more pale than usual. "Are we sure that Gilgamesh guy is here?"

"If Berkut is here, then so is he."

"I don't even want to know how many soldiers are down there, and even if we did make it past that army, we're still no match for Gilgamesh

Alm looked to Carocol, of all people, for support, but even he returned Alm's gaze doubtfully. Perhaps they were right. They had come so far, true, but what kind of leader would he be if he led them to certain slaughter?

He scanned the valley for any hidden passageway, any secret road that would take them around the city to the castle, but his eyes were not trained like that of a smuggler or a thief. And even then, what would greet them when they arrived at the castle? Certainly more soldiers with superior conditioning to the city guard, along with Gilgamesh himself.

"I thought perhaps we could find a way to do this, but now that we're here, I just don't see it. We're impossibly outmatched…."

"That's never stopped us before."

Everyone turned to face Garnet, the fire of the castle's torches reflected in her goggles.

"When I...when we joined the Crystal Gems..." Garnet began, gazing down at the gemstones embedded in her palms, "I'm not gonna lie, I didn't think we stood a chance. We, an unstable fusion, a simple Pearl, a rebellious quartz and a dozen misfits would be going to war with the most powerful empire in the galaxy. Lose, and we would be shattered forever.

"But then Ruby felt what Sapphire felt. Normally, Sapphire can _see_ the future, but for the first time, she _felt _it. Pain, grief, doubt, defeat...and then, happiness. Victory. We didn't know how it would come to be, but it was the knowledge that it would eventually be that pushed us on. That continues to push us to be the best Crystal Gems we can be."

Garnet pushed her goggles up above her forehead, revealing three piercing eyes, one bue, one red, and the one in between a deep shade of maroon.

"Is that what you feel now?" Carocol asked. Garnet pushed her goggles back over her eyes, and for a second an orange glimmer traveled down her cheek. She cleared her throat and continued.

"We will win this battle," was all she said, her gauntlets appearing in her hands.

"How, Garnet?"

Garnet smirked.

"We have powers humans don't. And come to think of it, so do you two."

Alm wasn't sure what she meant by this. It was true that Carocol, thanks to Rose, was by all means immortal. But what could he do? Sure, he was good with the blade, but he was hopeless at magic and mastered no weapons other than swords...

"Rose, Pearl, let's fuse."

There was an amusing contrast in Rose and Pearl's reactions. The former squealed and emitted a cheerful "woohoo!" at the prospect of fusing with Garnet, while Pearl simply trembled and put a hand over her mouth.

"Garnet, are you...quite sure?"

"With our combined size, we'll frighten most of the people in the town so they're out of harm's way. And hopefully, a fair amount of soldiers will lose their composure as well."

"But you won't attack," Alm said, for even though Rigel would be on the other side of the field of battle, Gilgamesh and Berkut were the only true enemies. He would not condone the destruction of Rigel's sacred capital.

"No, but a good roar will do the trick."

"Can I do the roaring this time?" Rose said, bouncing on her heels in excitement. "Eeeh, oh this is so exciting…"

"Sure. Pearl, you work the legs. Ruby and Sapphire can handle the rest. Oh, and Pearl, if you step on my foot like last time, you'll be operating the abdomen from here on out."

It would be typical for Pearl to stamp her feet or become defensive, but Pearl merely smiled at the joke and got in position.

"Rose, don't you think fusion would be a bit excessive?"

Pearl's eyes twinkled mysteriously at Rose, but she didn't seem to notice.

"Of course not, let's just do it already!"

Garnet's palms began to glow, as did the gem on Rose's stomach. Rose folded her arms over her stomach and fell back, Garnet catching her just before she hit the ground, looking deeply into her eyes. They both looked up at Pearl, who looked as if a fly had flown into her throat.

With an uncertain glance in Alm's direction, the gem on Pearl's forehead began to glow. Dancing seemed to come more naturally to Pearl, whose legs and arms seemed to flow like water on their own volition. Carocol and Alm were transfixed by this bizarre ritual, as the three danced around the clearing, each possessing their own unique style. Garnet's limbs were as flexible and loose as a snake's body, and Alm had forbidden dreams about abdominal motions like hers…

Pearl, on the other hand, resembled the typical ballroom dancer, and the way she moved reminded him of the dances at the Ram Harvest Festival every fall.

Rose clearly had no concept of dance; it looked more like a squirrel had crawled into her dress, and she were trying to shake it out.

The light of their gems slowly grew stronger and stronger until finally, the three met in the middle of the clearing with their backs to one another, forming one amorphous white shape that slowly stretched to the sky.

Carocol and Alm looked up, up, up as the shape grew taller and thinner, until finally an eight-armed monstrosity was leering down at them. It was sporting the same shades as Garnet, but that was where the similarity to any of the gems composing it ended. Its skin was a wild yellowish-green color, though this far from the strangest feature of this new gem. That title belonged to its face, or rather _faces, _with the top one's mouth wrapped over the forehead of the bottom one as if trying to devour it. The unblinking eyes pulsed with a red color that could rival the luster of the sunset and the ferocity of a gargoyle.

The gem leaned back and roared, the noise echoing off the surrounding peaks and congregating in the village. They opened their mouth(s?) again, and Alm cupped his hands over his ears. This would be unnecessary.

In a matter of seconds, the gem had begun to glow again, and Garnet, Rose, and Pearl landed face first on the ground.

The fusion had done their job, however, but only partially. The few residents wandering the streets seemed to be shrieking in terror, and Alm could see the shadows running about, looking for shelter. The city guard, however, pointed their weapons in the direction of the mountains, before retreating in the direction of the castle. Alm could only watch as the gate opened, and a single shadow emerged from the inner sanctum, sauntering towards them.

"That's Berkut!"

_But where is Gilgamesh?_

"Pearl?"

The gems weren't paying attention to the developments below. Instead, Rose had her arms wrapped around Pearl, trying to help her trembling body to her feet.

"Why did you break the fusion?" Garnet said, putting her arms on Pearl's shoulders. Pearl's expression was vacant.

"Look!" Carocol called out.

It wasn't what Carocol saw, but what Alm heard that got his attention; a roar even louder than the fusion's. Thousands of dark shapes were emerging from the castle barracks, all sorts of weaponry brandished. The army broke off into three distinct lines as it moved through the city, but eventually reformed at the entry gate and began making their way up the mountain trail towards them.

"What do we do?" Rose said, finally seeing it for herself.

There was nothing else to do. Alm drew his weapon without a word, and moved into the center of the path, waiting for the onslaught to come. Carocol quickly followed suit, grasping his blade like one would a garden shear. Rose and Garnet nodded at one another, summoning their weapons and joining the humans.

Though Pearl had only moments ago endured some sort of emotional trauma, she eventually came to, and seeing her two friends preparing to fight for their lives, drew her spear and moved in beside them.


	25. Chapter 25: The Art of War

Alm could count on one hand the times he admitted Mycen had been right. Mycen had been right before, of course, but admitting that was another thing.

And this time, Mycen was right.

War was not the glorious occasion portrayed in fable and legend. That was true for an observer, perhaps, but not a participant.

Time had ceased to exist in Alm's mind; his focus was on the endless stream of Rigelian soldiers, charging up the mountain towards them. The bloodshed was such that Alm could not discern between the soldiers covered in the blood of their compatriots, or reinforcements in crimson Rigelian armor.

He could still hear the muffled voices of the Crystal Gems, but just barely over the song of war. The _flit _of arrows, the screeching of steel, the screams of dying men.

In Alm's mind, he was invincible. He had weathered some rather grievous shots, but he had become numb to the pain. Something wet and red was beginning to coat his armor; blood, yes, that was it. Whether it was his or his foe's, he didn't care to know. .

But even then, as the battle wore on and the men fell in droves before him, something else was slowly creeping into Alm's mind. A sadness, wounding him more deeply than any physical weapon could. He could feel it slowly puncturing the crown of his soul, as if it were hatching from an egg, swarming every extremity of his body.

_Make it stop!_

It was a familiar voice, though Alm wasn't sure if it was real or not. He managed to duck just as the tip of a killing edge came down; a swordmaster stood across from him now, sporting a crooked smile.

_You have to stop! Stop!_

He felt sick to his stomach, like a child who had eaten too many sweets…

There was another sensation now, one that was surely real, for the swordsman matching blades with him also reacted. The blaring of a horn, several voices shouting "fall back," and for what felt like the first time in eons, Alm's attention was diverted from the throes of battle as the remaining enemies turned and retreated back down into the valley.

_I can't let them leave, _said another voice, throatier than the first. It was gritty and dark, and yet Alm couldn't help but listen. He spotted the swordmaster in the retreating pack, attempting to climb on the back of a retreating paladin's horse. With speed he didn't even realize he had, Alm sprinted after him, lunging and catching the man's boot as he nearly sped away. The man landed back-first, exhaling and cringing as the hard ground battered his spine.

Alm's arms lifted his blade into the air, fixated on the man's quivering throat.

"...lm, no…"

Something collided with Alm's back, so that he landed face first in the hard soil. He heard the metallic hum as his blade slid across the ground, landing at the feet of...Pearl.

Alm squirmed against his captor, pounding the back of their head with his elbow and biting at their hair.

"It's Rose, Alm. You need to stop…"

Alm's muscles relaxed, and suddenly he found that he could hear again. It felt as if a dark filter had been taken off of his eyes. Before he could even bend over, a cascade of bile reached his mouth and forced him to vomit.

"Oooohh…" he heard Pearl shiver. He knelt down for what felt like ages, as if his stomach itself wished to retreat with the Rigelians, before standing upright with his hand placed to his stomach.

"It's over, Alm. They've fallen back."

"But for how long?"

Carocol stepped in between them, also clutching at his stomach. A trickle of blood ran down his right leg, and a crescent-shaped gash was slowly forming on his left cheek. Alm thought of helping his friend sit down, but the instant he moved, the pain he had ignored overwhelmed him. He collapsed on the ground, and Pearl averted her eyes, afraid Alm was going to vomit again.

"Where's Garnet?" Rose asked, not taking her eyes off Alm.

"Uh, she'll be back in a bit."

Ruby was supporting a limping Sapphire.

"It was one of the horseback guys! We had just-" Ruby pounded her fist into the outstretched palm of her other hand "-_pow, _crushed one of the archers, and he came out of nowhere and plunged a lance in our chest!"

Pearl and Sapphire moaned simultaneously, but Ruby laughed it off.

"We unfused at the last second, so we're okay!"

"Yes, although the same man's horse trampled over my ankle as he retreated," Sapphire said, sitting down and stretching out her leg. She pushed the hair out of her face, revealing a single, tearful eye. "If we form Garnet like this, we will be at a significant disadvantage."

"I've expended my healing abilities for a time," Rose said, sounding tired for the first time since Alm or Carocol had met her. "I hope you're okay being separated for a while."

Ruby twiddled her thumbs, kicking at a loose rock on the ground, but Sapphire placed her bangs back in place and nodded.

"We'll be okay, Ruby."

But before Ruby could respond, there was a commotion as Rose suddenly swung her sword at Alm. Had Carocol not pushed Alm out of the way, the resulting blow would've been catastrophic.

"Are you mad?" Alm screamed, catching a mouthful of Rose's shield in the process. He managed to stay on his feet, though the taste of blood began to fill his mouth, and he looked down to see a couple of teeth on the ground.

"You killed so many humans. Did you even stop to think what you were doing?!"

Alm turned his attention to the pile of bodies. He attempted to shield himself from the stench with his arm, though the feeling of still-wet blood against his face was not a pleasant one.

"Rose!" Sapphire yelled. Ruby and Pearl were biting their fingers nervously, wanting no part in holding Rose back.

"I made a commitment to protect humans when I formed the Crystal Gems. No matter what side they were on…"

Rose bounded towards Alm. Alm rolled out of the way at the last possible second as her sword cut along the ground. He looked for any sign of his grandfather's blade. By chance, perhaps, he placed his hand on the ground and felt a familiar sensation of cool silver against his skin.

But Rose, with the swiftness and instinct of a true quartz soldier, stepped on the blade, trapping Alm's hand with it. Alm howled in pain, but still nobody helped him.

"If you pick up that sword, you will kill again," Rose said blankly. "I cannot let that happen."

"What did you expect would happen? That the Rigelians would see the five of us and lay down their arms? They're an empire!"

"You don't need to tell me," Rose said. "I've done my fair share of fighting empires too, in case you've forgotten. But unlike gems, humans can't regenerate! All those men you've killed are gone forever. How can you live with yourself?"

"Far more comfortably than someone who has more sympathy for the enemy than their allies."

There was a gasp, and Alm could see out of the corner of his eye that Pearl had clasped a hand over her mouth.

"Mycen may not have the power to heal and revive his friends by touching them. He may not be able to see the future. But he taught me that no warrior could expect to last on the field of battle if their heart hurt for the enemy."

Alm looked down at his hands, drenched with Rigelian blood.

"I understand that I've torn away so many lives today. Torn them from their families, their friends, their country. But they knew this could happen. Anyone who calls themselves a warrior understands this, and fights anyway. They fight for something greater, for what they feel is right."

_Why did these words feel so hollow?_

Rose hung her head. Garnet and Pearl looked back and forth between the two, waiting for one to make a move.

"If that's so, I know what I fight for, and what I have to do."

She lifted her sword.

"If I let you kill more, I could never live with myself…"

In that moment, as Rose's sword prepared to separate Alm's head from his body, something came between them...

"Carocol…!"

Carocol aimed a kick at Rose's torso. It was enough to push her back. She grimaced for a moment, then regarded the Yasha with shock.

"You are what I once was," he said in a strange voice, heavy with emotion and yet impactful nonetheless. "Afraid to fight for a cause, because having a cause meant hurting someone else! I understand that fear...I was raised to feel it myself.

"But traveling with you, seeing what you all fight for...I understand more than ever what it means to have something worth fighting for. Family, friends, the sake of the world...There will always be those that rise to take those things from us, and there will always be someone to meet it. Today, that is us.

"If you will not hear me, and you will stand between Alm and his destiny, I will stand with him."

Carocol held his sword out before him. Pearl and Ruby, who had been just as dumbfounded as Rose, slowly positioned themselves next to Rose, their weapons drawn. Alm found this ironic, as the proud gems who openly rebelled against the influence of the Diamonds, were annoyingly loyal to a Diamond without knowing it.

"No."

It was Rose who had said this, indicating for Pearl and Garnet to lower their weapons. Rose's sword and shield disappeared, as did Ruby and Pearl's gauntlets and spear respectively.

"I...I'm sorry Alm, I…guess I'm not a warrior after all."

Pearl gulped nervously, but Rose looked down at her reassuringly.

"You're a quartz, Rose, you were made for fighting," Sapphire said, trying to pull herself to her feet. Rose shook her head.

"Alm is more of a warrior than I ever could be. Someday, maybe we'll all understand."

In the distance, Alm heard the gate to the Imperial castle clicking to life, followed by the pounding of hundreds of boots upon the drawbridge.

"We're not done. They've retreated, but it's time to finish this!"

Alm turned and sprinted down the mountain trail. Carocol followed, as did Ruby (stopping, of course, to collect Sapphire in her arms), leaving Pearl and Rose to slowly follow behind.

Fernand could see all of this as he ascended the eastern tower, which led to the dining hall. He had climbed these same steps for years, since becoming a Rigelian soldier in fact, typically with an empty stomach. But on this eve, he wondered if he would ever have the stomach to eat again. Never had climbing these steps filled him with such dread.

The smell of warm turkey indicated he had reached the desired landing, and he stepped out into the dining chamber. When Emperor Rudolf was still healthy, he would change the decor of the room to match the season; a white and midnight blue checkered tablecloth and silver-bound candles, for instance, in Wyrmstym to reflect the season's snow. Berkut, however, had no interest in these minute affairs. Though they were in the heart of Wyrmstym, the plaid pumpkin orange and brown of Avistym was still draped over the table, and an empty cornucopia gasped for food to be fitted in its maw.

Berkut was seated at the end of the table by himself. This was yet another quality of the room that had changed from when Rudolf reigned. Fernand remembered his days as a private, when the voices of the emperor and his generals would fill the room until late in the evening. The table groaning under the weight of bowls and plates of the most delicious food Rigel had to offer, so much so that it was a fortunate thing the chamber was in the back of the castle and away from the public eye, or there would certainly have been far more peasant rebellions in those days.

But Berkut possessed none of the chemistry with his men as the emperor, and often dined alone or with his wife. Fernand had offered to join him several times, but Berkut always turned him down.

Berkut noticed Fernand enter the chamber, and began dabbing at his chin with a napkin.

"Fernand, my friend! I did not know you had returned."

"My apologies, my lord," Fernand said from the other end of the table, bowing deeper than he typically would. "I took the liberty of captaining the city patrol the past few days, for one of the lieutenants has been ill. I pray it isn't the same illness that has taken hold of the emperor."

If there was any advantage to Berkut not interacting with his men, Fernand thought, it was that he had no way of knowing if one of them was lying.

"Very well," Berkut said, placing the napkin in his lap, studying his favored lieutenant. "And what did you do when the order was given to capture our little hawk and his cast?"

"I ordered my men to join the attack party, of course, which is why I am here, my liege. The attack, unfortunately, was a failure. The boy fights with the strength of ten thousand Zofians."

The spoon in Berkut's hand fell to the floor, and the coolness in his manner vanished with it.

"You mean to tell me the boy fought off our finest forces by his lonesome?!"

"We...must've underestimated the abilities of his friends, my liege."

"No…" said a distant sounding voice.

The two men looked around the room for the source of the voice, and Fernand nearly lost his footing as Gilgamesh moved in beside him.

"My king! Wh-when did you return?"

"Not too long ago, but I did manage to catch sight of the skirmish. The boy is his own army. His allies, aside from the Yasha mongrel, did almost nothing. He truly is the manifestation of destiny."

Gilgamesh placed his hand on Berkut's shoulder, who looked just as surprised as Fernand to see him.

"He will, of course, attack again this very eve."

"Yes, my excellencies, which is why I have come here. If we line our forces around the battlements…"

"We have no need for your tactics, do we, Berkut?"

Berkut cleared his throat.

"Uh, no, Fernand. I have been made aware of your activities by the emperor."

Fernand suddenly found it very difficult to stand.

"Your excellency, I was assigned to complete the task by the emperor himself. Forgive me, I was just following his orders…"

"Rudolf is sick, and is not in his right mind. I, as your direct commanding officer, am. You should've come to me first…"

"With all due respect," Fernand said, his eyes darting back and forth between Gilgamesh and Berkut, who were both studying him like one would study a troublesome cockroach, "I was told not to come to you, in order to protect you."

"And how can you protect him at all if you are not here?" Gilgamesh said, picking up a pitcher of wine and filling a goblet with its contents. He took a sip, made a face, and put both back on the table. "This is the best this nation can produce? Puh."

"Gilgamesh is right, Fernand. For all you know, the emperor could've sent you on his way so he could kill me."

Fernand could hardly believe his ears.

"Your excellency, I'm sure even in the most rabid of states, the emperor would not dare to attack his own flesh and blood?"

"He ordered you to aid the number one enemy of our state. His mind is a frightening enigma."

"My lord, please, I only do what is right for the crown of Rigel. I swear, I was doing what I thought was right. Please, have mercy!"

Fernand collapsed on his knees, and placed his arms on Berkut's plated boots.

"My life is yours, my liege, until the day you or I draw our last breaths. Please, give me another chance. Tonight, I shall lead our forces to victory and take care of that Zofian runt once and for all!"

Berkut kicked Fernand's hands away.

"You are a pitiful display. I will allow you to retain your life, but your days as a Rigelian knight are over. You will surrender your armor and weapons tonight, and any accolades you have accrued are forfeit."

Fernand placed his head in his hands, and for a while Berkut was certain he would begin sobbing. Instead, Fernand helped himself to his feet, and slowly shambled his way back in the direction of the tower.

"Unfortunately, I do not have the same amount of mercy as my companion."

It felt as if the fist of Duma himself had plunged through Fernand's chest. He collapsed to the ground, his blood seeping into the carpet as the spear Gilgamesh had launched caved his ribs in.

"W-what are you doing?" Berkut said in a breathy voice.

"This man is a traitor, and will certainly join Alm's side if you let him live. I say we hang him from the battlements, as a symbol of what happens when you challenge me."

The world was fading fast, and Fernand only had the strength to mutter Berkut's name one final time before closing his eyes for an eternal rest.

"There was no proof of that, my lord. His allegiance to the crown of Rigel was never in question, he only answered to the wrong person!"

Gilgamesh grunted impatiently.

"We cannot afford to be careless, not when the rebirth of Duma is so close."

Berkut pushed his plate of food away from him, for the sight of Fernand's corpse bleeding out on the carpet made his stomach hurt.

"The emperor's life will soon end," Gilgamesh said, smiling and taking another sip of wine as if he had merely commented on the weather. Berkut's heart skipped a beat.

"What do you mean?"

"I did what you couldn't. The goblet of poison sits empty by his bedside. The old fool will finally be out of our way."

Berkut's stomach contracted at the revelation. It was true that the emperor stood in his way, but even after all he, Rinea, and Gilgamesh had done, a dull pain nevertheless settled itself in his heart.

"Where is my wife, my lord? You were supposed to keep watch of her."

"She is at the Tower of Duma, awaiting your arrival," Gilgamesh responded, not meeting Berkut's eye. Gilgamesh often talked down to Berkut without meaning too, but somehow, this response felt different.

"Good. Let's end this little insurrection, then we can finally begin the process of changing the world."

Gilgamesh took another sip of wine, before setting the goblet on the table and wiping at his mouth with the back of his armor.

"On the contrary, I say we let the boy and his sheep take our little fort."

"My lord…?" Berkut responded.

"The boy has made it his goal to stand between us and our destiny. Even I cannot guarantee you protection from him. And besides, I sense the Yasha lad may have discovered the truth about me. That could make getting rid of him rather time-consuming."

Berkut stared around the dining room, the very one where he had celebrated so many birthdays with Rudolf and his generals. He thought of the royal bedchamber, the gardens where he and Rinea had first shared a kiss, the chapel where they had been wed.

"We cannot just forfeit our capital to the Zofians!" he said firmly. Gilgamesh's eyes flickered impatiently.

"Sometimes, you can be so shortsighted, boy."

Berkut found his patience beginning to thin, as it often did around Gilgamesh, although tonight he was finding it difficult to hide.

"How so?"

"When Duma emerges, we can retake this castle. We can make a folly out of the Zofian castle. We can claim the endless prairies and forests you and Rinea used to frequent. If we stay here, we risk missing our window. The princess of Zofia will not live long enough to be useful."

"The princess Anthiese? You mean you've found her?" Berkut asked, his annoyance evaporating.

"Not only that, but I've captured her. Unfortunately, like Alm, the girl has friends of her own that will surely come for her. Even worse, I wounded her far worse than I meant to. We must return to the Tower, tonight."

Gilgamesh moved briskly towards the tower stairs, stepping over Fernand's corpse without a second glance.

"We must leave now, or the girl will die."

Gilgamesh disappeared down the stairs. Berkut followed, pausing only to look down at Fernand's body. He bent down and closed his fallen lieutenant's eyelids gently, and with one final glance at the dining chamber, hurried down the stairs, clutching his stomach a bit tighter with each step.

Before they had even arrived at the gates of the capital, Alm and Carocol had their weapons drawn. No troops came to accost them, even as they entered the city limits. The consequences of Berkut's inexperience were prevalent here, even more so than in the surrounding country and Goldstarch. They had already witnessed some of the city's physical decay from their view on the mountain; now, it was directly upon them.

While the stench of death, like that in Goldstarch, was not present here, the air was stale with mold and rotting hay. Piles of the stuff had been spilled upon the main road, in the haste of the resident's retreat into their homes. At one point, Alm tripped over a tipped-over food cart, and as Carocol helped him up he noticed someone staring at him.

It was an older woman, wearing a wrinkly clerical shawl and leaning out the front door of her home. The house itself reflected the state of Rigelian society better than any one person could: a two-story manor of timber that had once stood tall over the surrounding tenements, now sagging slightly like a sack of potatoes. The woman began to approach them, but as Carocol raised his blade, the woman held out her hand. The effect was for Carocol to back down, but only slightly, and let the woman approach.

"For you, my prince."

The cleric reached into the folds of her shawl and produced a brown, triangular container. She shook it vigorously, but nothing came out until she tapped the bottom, producing a single capsule of healing herbs. Before Alm could protest, the woman thrust the capsule into his hands.

"Sister, certainly there are citizens who need it more than I?" Alm said, holding it up to his face nonetheless.

She shook her head.

"Long have we awaited your return."

A sensation of deja vu overcame Alm, as he recalled the eventful evening in Goldstarch. The pain wracking Alm was becoming difficult to ignore, however.

"If it is alright, sister, I would prefer to receive a dose of healing magic."

"I'm afraid my staves have long expended their magic," the sister responded, shaking her head. "Please, use that vulnerary. You will not face any more resistance from Rigelian troops."

Alm looked to Carocol for advice, but the Yasha merely shrugged. The herbs had an immediate effect, and though Alm could still feel the burning from a particularly nasty gash in his right hip, he found that he could walk without limping.

"Wait!"

Ruby stepped in between them, still clutching Sapphire and panting heavily for it.

"Alm, don't go to the castle," Ruby gasped. Sapphire got to her feet, allowing Ruby to kneel over and catch her breath.

"We must stop Berkut, Ruby. I cannot delay any more."

"The boy fled some time ago," the sister said, and everyone turned to listen to her. As if in response, the doors to the city houses seemed to open in unison, and weary residents emerged with nervous glances around for any sign of Rigelian soldiers. "The 'king' was with him."

"That makes no sense," Alm said, more to himself than anyone in particular. Why would Berkut abandon the capital so easily, especially in the condition he and the Crystal Gems were in? The sensation of relief was short-lived, as Sapphire suddenly looked up at Alm nervously.

"Alm, if you're not ready…" she began, a single tear streaming down her face.

"Ready for what?"

Sapphire leaned up against the sister's manor, wincing with every movement of her injured leg.

"The thing Garnet warned you about...what Mycen warned you about. It's about to happen."

Alm had never felt so drained. The battle fatigue felt secondary to this new sensation; a horrible feeling of anxiety that lined his insides like lead. Even though he had no idea what was about to happen, he knew he wasn't prepared.

"Wait, Alm!"

Alm started towards the castle. He was ill-suited to handle any more emotional or physical pain on this eve, and yet somehow, he knew delaying it would be even worse.

He heard Carocol beginning to follow him, followed by a feminine grunt, indicating he needed to stay behind. Alm wasn't sure who it was who held him back, but it didn't matter. As far as Alm could tell, the world around him existed behind a sort of veil. He felt strangely disconnected from the residents staring at him as the castle loomed ever closer. Rigelian soldiers of all ranks, some Alm recognized from the earlier skirmish, bowed as he passed.

As he finally crossed the threshold of the castle, the torches beginning to peter out as the night air grew colder, the surroundings were suddenly familiar to him. He allowed instinct (or was it memory?) to take over, to carry up him up the tower stairs. As he ascended, two clerics wielding a medical cot passed him by, forcing him to stand aside.

He resisted the urge to cry out as a familiar face, pale and anguished, stared up at him from the passing cot. Fernand's sharp features and nobleman's arrogance had left him, leaving a soft expression Alm hadn't seen in a decade. How unfair, that someone he regarded as an enemy still felt like a close friend in death. He only caught a single glance at the somewhat familiar gash in Fernand's chest before forcing himself to continue up the stairs.

Finally, he arrived at the landing of the topmost floor. A single torch lit the short hallway to what Alm knew was the emperor's chamber, flanked by stained-glass windows depicting scenes of Rigelian heroes and mythological encounters, though they were lifeless without a moon or sun to shine through them.

Alm's hand hovered over the handle to the door. He took a deep breath, the only thing he could do to stop himself from turning around and running back to the safety of his friends. But just as his hand settled on the scaly, brass handle to the room, the door opened by itself, and for just a moment, his spirits lifted higher than Alm could ever remember.

His grandfather, Mycen, beckoned him into the room, closing the door behind them.


	26. Chapter 26: Emperor's End

Mycen was silent as he and Alm entered the royal chamber. He had the same expression as the day he took Celica away, Alm realized; stern, but behind the pupil walls of black a layer of sadness lingered.

The room was as lavish as Alm had expected the Emperor's quarters to be, and if the current circumstances had been different, he would have voraciously explored every inch of it. Depicted on the ceiling was a scene from the Divine Schism, the moment Duma and Mila separated to rule their own domains, although the figure of Duma had been painted larger and in far greater detail. The Rigelian coat of arms shone from every inch of the green wallpaper, as well as the red drapes obscuring the window. The fireplace was ablaze with the grandest controlled fire Alm had ever seen, accentuating the room with its amber pallor.

Alm was focused on the shriveled husk of a man. Alm had only seen the Emperor Rudolf in paintings, but even these images were hard to come by during his Zofian childhood. Rudolf was a villainous figure in Zofian portraiture, and sometimes the butt of a subliminal joke. He could remember the time Gray was almost banned from the Ram Art Festival for laughing so hard at _Rigelian Ass. _The painting was initially that of a cartoonish looking donkey painted from the side, but upon closer inspection the Emperor's face could be seen in the fur around the donkey's flank.

But even in these works, Rudolf still possessed the physical qualities of a Rigelian emperor, from his steely, ebony eyes to the flaming mane of golden-white hair flowing down his back. In his expression, Alm had seen a man with little tolerance for failure, and a deep passion for conflict.

It was hard to believe this sickly man was the aloof emperor Alm had studied in so many paintings and stories.

"My boy…" the emperor whispered, pushing himself up with a blackened hand. "You must...despise this old man…"

It was true; even before his quest had begun, Alm, and all of his peers, had been brought up to despise the emperor Rudolf. Beyond paintings, Rudolf was the villain in the childish games he played with his friends. The embodiment of tyranny, and a name that when used to criticize a member of the Zofian ruling class would inevitably result in a screaming match.

But Alm could never, even in the cold depths of his heart, feel any sense of pleasure from watching a man die like this.

"We need to get a cleric up here," Alm said, turning on Mycen. "A troubadour, a minstrel..."

Mycen simply raised his hand to stop Alm, and indicated for him to listen to the Emperor.

"Yes...I see you've absorbed some of Mila's kindness. Mycen has raised you well."

The emperor cleared his throat, a pitiful sound that barely reached Alm's ears.

"Unfortunately, there is nothing any person of the staff can do to save me now. I have ingested far too much poison. My time is borrowed, and I have much to tell you."

He motioned for Mycen to bolt the door, and did not speak until this was done.

"Our two nations have gone to war on several occasions, my dear boy. You could even say it is a tradition, inherited by our ancestors Duma and Mila. Your grandfather and I had our fair share of encounters back in the day."

Mycen and Rudolf shared a wry smile.

"I was young, then, and like any young man handed the reins to the mightiest nation in the world, I was reckless. I wanted more than anything to conquer Zofia and finally establish Rigel as the only nation worthy of ruling Valentia. For the better part of a decade, our two nations destroyed one another, leaving fields and forests full of battered shields, arrowheads, and blood. It was a horrible time for the common folk of both of our countries, but I didn't care. All I could do was focus on the next battle, the next opponent…"

Alm was uncomfortably reminded of the mania that had overtaken him only a couple hours before.

"Eventually, I came to my senses, and saw the effects the war was having on my people. You have seen it firsthand yourself on your journey here; the land was rotting, the people were sick and starving. Brigands were raiding villages without any intervention, kidnapping women and children, killing the farmers, and pilfering from the elderly and poor. I saw brothers and sisters, divided by our nation's borders, forced to fight and even kill one another.

"The king of Zofia had observed this in his nation for months, and had called for the war to end several times, but I did not budge. It was your grandfather that convinced me (in the middle of battle, no less!) to sheathe my spear and seek peace.

"In time, both of our nations recovered, and we enjoyed an uneasy peace. The arrival of the gems from the world beyond ours complicated matters, but Zofia and Rigel both maintained their identities in spite of these new arrivals.

"But then, one day, the sky fell…"

Rudolf's gaze traversed the room, focused on the mysterious realm beyond the sky.

"We had heard the crash even from here. Then, the next day, reports came in that nearly every village near Duma Tower had been wiped out by a massive rock. I believed they had meant a giant rockfall, but the lad who reported it to me insisted that one, massive stone had suddenly fallen from the sky and destroyed the villages utterly and completely.

Alm remembered the lights he had seen those months ago, colors Alm had never seen before dancing across the sky. Even the thought of seeing those peculiar tones again made him shudder.

"Things were never the same after that. Though Duma Tower was badly damaged by the impact, it still stands today. But all the same, the crops began to die again. Natural disasters and earthquakes ravaged the countryside. Then, the terrors emerged, attacking and wiping out villages all over the continent with surgical precision.

"Never had I felt so powerless. After every day, I would collapse on this bed, drained from the amount of tragedy I was forced to absorb. My nephew, ever the ambitious lad, volunteered to investigate Duma Tower for me, and lead the efforts to rebuild the area surrounding it. I knew the area around the tower would be a place of great evil…"

A single tear rolled down the old man's cheek.

"I should never have let the boy go."

"Berkut went by himself?" Mycen said, speaking up for the first time. It took Alm a moment to make the connection, but when he did it felt like a powder keg had exploded in his chest.

"Berkut is not your son?!" Alm roared. Mycen and Rudolf exchanged knowing glances. Alm had many questions, but the emperor's breathing was already growing labored. Alm clenched his fists, and growled for the emperor to continue. He would deal with his newly realized cousin in due time.

"When he returned, he was not alone. I don't know if it was the journey itself, or his new acquaintance, Gilgamesh, who came back with him, but something had changed my nephew. That ambition I had once taken pride in had turned to lust. He would sequester himself for weeks on end in his chamber, even from his own wife, talking only with this man.

"It wasn't until one day, when Rinea and I were supping in the dining chamber, that I realized what was going on. She had taken to wearing her traveling cloak around the castle, even in the daylight. It was Flostym then, and the air was still warm, but I knew better than to intrude on the affairs of another man's wife. On this occasion, however, she had been careless with her butter knife, and cut her finger. I leaned down to examine it, and...there they were.

"The command seals of the Rigelian Heritor of Arcadia."

Alm had heard the term Heritor before, but he couldn't remember where.

"I'm sure Celica told you all about it back when you pranced around in the meadow behind the village," Mycen said wryly, knowing the opposite was true.

Celica had mentioned the story before. But then again, religious tales had never excited Alm. More often than not, he only stayed quiet when she spoke because he liked the sound of her voice, even if the words went through one ear and out the other.

"Perhaps you need a refresher?" Mycen said, ever the clairvoyant. "Before Duma and Mila split, Mila proposed that a living mortal should attain both hers and Duma's qualities. If there came a time where one God would attempt to overpower the other, the Heritors, along with servants who resided in Arcadia, would unite to bring balance to Valentia once again.

"Sadly," Mycen continued, leaning against the sofa facing the fireplace, "even my knowledge of the tale is quite limited."

"You know enough, Mycen," Rudolf said. Even with his quiet murmur of a voice, he had the ability to command the attention of everyone in the room. "The command seals were believed to be how the Heritors made their connection to these divine Servants. And on Rinea's arm, was the seal of the servant of Rigel. But that could not be."

"How come?" Alm asked.

"If you had known Rinea, she possessed none of the qualities of the Rigelian Heritor. She was humble, meek. Even though she was born with tremendous magical abilities, she dedicated herself to her family, and then Berkut once they were wed."

"Where is she? If Berkut knew who the real Heritor was, she would certainly know."

Rudolf opened his mouth to answer, but was quickly placated by a series of raspy sounding coughs. When he finally had the strength to speak again, however, he hesitated again, tears forming in his eyes.

"Rinea is dead."

The room seemed to dim slightly. Only a week ago, Rinea had offered Alm and his friends a room in her fort, despite being on the other side of the geopolitical aisle. In any other circumstances, she would've been a tremendous friend.

"However, neither she nor Berkut learned who the real Heritor was," Rudolf continued, his voice breathy and labored. "Even though Berkut crossed blades with him multiple times, and his wife Rinea lent him a bed to sleep in, neither ever knew that they were in the presence of the real Heritor of Arcadia.

Alm waited for the old man to laugh. For Mycen to playfully punch him in the shoulder. But the grave expression in both their eyes was all he needed to know.

"I'm a Heritor of Arcadia," Alm said, in a voice of awe that bordered perilously on uncertainty. His body felt heavy, as if somehow he did not belong in it.

Alm instinctively grabbed at the back of his hand, the one where a strange brand was always faintly visible to him. His mind reminded him of the occasion his hand burned when the quest had first begun, and how it did again when he had dreamed of…

"Celica is the Heritor of Zofia."

Mycen hung his head in silent acknowledgment. As the proud grandfather to Alm, he knew better than to underestimate his intelligence.

"That's why you took her away…"

"It was too dangerous for both Heritors to be in the same place at once, so I took her across the sea to live in the Novis Priory.

"Alm, there is more you should know," Mycen said, in a low, melancholic tone Alm had never heard before. "Celica is not her real name. It is Anthiese."

Now, surely Mycen was pulling his leg. Once again, his grandfather's silence confirmed what he had said.

"Celica is the...lost princess of Zofia?"

"The one and the same. Though Duma and Mila wished for the Heritors to be free from divine influence, it did not mean that anyone could be a Heritor. The Heritors are rich with royal blood, and their family history is deeply ingrained within their birth nation."

"So what you're saying is…"

Alm's head was already spinning from the revelations he had been forced to endure. Now, he felt as if the floor had fallen out beneath him. He slowly pivoted around, until he was facing Rudolf, his birth father, once more.

Neither could say anything. Alm could only stare at Rudolf blankly, as the old man's face swelled and turned a deep shade of red. He felt many things at once; joy, at finally uncovering his father's identity and meeting him face to face. Betrayal, that Mycen had never told him. But mostly, he felt despair, more cavernous and crippling than he had ever felt in his life, knowing their time together was going to be short.

"I expect you to be angry with me. To know that all of these years, you lived in poverty, when you were, in reality, the crown prince of the greatest nation on Earth."

Mycen shifted slightly at this statement, but Alm could care less about Valentian geopolitics. Alm was torn between the desire to burst into tears, or to strike the old man. He settled in the middle, and wrapped Rudolf in as deep of a hug as Alm could manage.

"I...I wish we had more time…" Alm muttered in Rudolf's ear.

"Me too," Rudolf whispered. Alm continued to embrace his father, even as his arms fell limply by his side. As his body grew cold and his breathing ceased.

Alm regretted every negative thought he had ever felt towards Rudolf. For so long, he had been ingrained to hate him, and now, he found himself fighting back tears. Fighting to hold on, even as someone tried to pull him away. He fought as hard as he could, but already the corners of his eyes were beginning to burn, his cheeks beginning to ache from the pressure of stemming the tide.

"Grandpa, I...what do I do now?" Alm said, throwing his arms around who he had thought was his grandfather, pulling him away. Instead, he found himself staring into Garnet's three, watery eyes.

"I wanted to tell you Alm, I'm so sorry. I don't blame you if you hate me," she said, looking down at the palms of her hands. "But, I saw you getting to this point someday, and all I can do is see the future, not stop it from happening. I couldn't tell you, because I had just met you."

It was strange to see Garnet so uncertain with herself, so uncomfortable being in her own skin. Alm looked over her shoulder to see Pearl, Rose, and Carocol, looking just as melancholy.

"Did you all know?"

All three shook their heads no, but their silence suggested an unspoken conspiracy did exist between them.

"We are one and the same," Carocol said, stepping into the light of the fireplace. "Garnet also showed me a disturbing vision of my father's death as well."

Alm, unable to find the appropriate words to respond with, simply nodded at the Yasha.

"You will be a tremendous emperor, Alm. I don't need future vision to know that," Mycen said, placing a hand on Alm's shoulder. "I'm sorry I kept this from you for so long, but it was for your own protection."

As angry as Alm wanted to be, for the many years he never got to experience with Rudolf, he could not find it in his heart to be angry with Mycen. It was because of his training that he had gotten this far, and as he looked around the room at the unlikely army he had led all this way, his despondence slowly faded away.

"Thank you all for being here," Alm said, pulling away from Garnet and wiping the tears from his eyes. "As painful as this journey has been for all of us-" Rose and Pearl half-looked at one another "-and as much as we may feel like we need to rest for a decade after all of this, we still have much to do."

"Yes," Mycen said, regarding Alm proudly. "Right now, Gilgamesh and Berkut are preparing the final rites to bring Duma back into existence. His awakening will bring this planet into ruin. In this castle, you will find an ancient shortcut to Duma Tower. There, you must face Berkut, Alm's servant, and perhaps even Duma himself. This will be your final trial."

"Crystal Deliverance," Alm began, taking one last, painful look at his father, powerful even in death. "Let's move!"


	27. Chapter 27: A Row in the Ruins

Saber awoke as Artoria Pendragon, standing in a field that looked vaguely familiar. The grass was yellow and sharp like a bumblebee's back, though the uniformness of it was interrupted by patches of bloodstained dirt and the fragmented blades of swords sticking out of the ground. Saber opened her nostrils to invite the warm smell of the summer sunset in, but flinched as the stench of death overtook her instead.

"Am I ready now, father?"

Artoria could hardly believe her ears, but when she turned, her worst fear was confirmed. Mordred, the son she and Morgana had conceived with magic so many years before, stood before her. She had removed her mask, so that Artoria was forced to confront the fact that she was, in appearance, her son.

It was slowly coming back to her. The reality of where she was.

"Am I ready to be king, father?"

Artoria could not speak. As much as she wanted to say yes, her heart kept her jaw taught. Mordred's face turned red, and she spat at Artoria's feet.

"You son of a bitch!" Mordred growled, as a javelin-like sword appeared in her arms. "Even now, after all this time, you can't admit it!"

Artoria could only watch as the sword met her stomach, and pain washed over her. She closed her eyes, waiting like she had so many years ago for God to lead her to Avalon...

Upon waking, Saber found her armor covered in a thick blanket of snow. Despite being cold, sweat covered her body like a thick film.

The Tower of Duma loomed in the distance, sticking out of the Earth like a weathered tombstone. It was half a day's journey to the Tower, but Saber was taking her time to get there, torn between desperation to save Celica and hesitation to challenge Gilgamesh and his forces by her lonesome.

She had dreamed about her old life ever since coming into this world, but never lucidly like this. Saber had truly believed in that moment that she was back in England, on the very battlefield where she had fallen: Camlann. Her son, wielding a cursed blade that was destined to bring Saber down, had delivered the death blow after Saber had delivered one of her own. Her last memory in life was to watch her own son die, before bleeding out herself.

This time, she had the chance to make it right. To give Mordred the crown that was rightfully his. But she didn't. The time of this realm in relation to her own world was ambiguous; how long had she been forced to live with that regret? And still, she could not bear to give up the crown.

"Not once did I despise you. There was only one reason I would not give you the throne. You didn't have the capacity of a King."

Those had been Saber's words. The last words she would ever speak. She had chosen her kingdom over her flesh and blood. History would immortalize her. For her iron determination to protect her people, even if it meant killing the only ones who had truly loved her. She had made the right choice...why, after all this time, did it still bring her to the brink of tears?

Thinking of the past made Saber weary, and on this day, she could not afford to sacrifice any more of her strength. She focused on her dismal surroundings in a vain attempt to distract herself. The overcast sky did not give her much optimism, and what she would nearly fall into a few minutes later would not either.

The only word Saber could use to describe the impossibly vast opening in the earth separating her from the Tower would be a "pit," but this was a laughable understatement. It was as if an entire lake's worth of water had been drained, leaving a vacuum of sediment. There was a curious mix of obscure material and the remains of a village that once sat here. Seeing no alternative route towards the Tower, Saber allowed mud and grime that coated the perimeter of the pit to carry her down in, rather than wading through it. A little dirt never bothered the King.

As the former King of Britain, Saber had unfortunately been forced to confront the horrors of war on many occasions. However, there was always a sense of glory to war that continually drew her away from the Round Table.

There was no such glory here.

The charred remains of men and women, young and old, were all that remained of this community. The corpses were poised like dolls in a children's play area, looking up at the sky towards something Saber couldn't see. Some were even pointing there. Beneath the fallen roof of a peasant shack, an entire family of remains was gathered around the central table, their skeletal smiles eerie and inviting at the same time. The smell of damp crust thankfully was strong enough to mask the stench of death, but Saber still found herself on the brink of being sick to her stomach.

No building had been spared, as Saber passed dilapidated churches and apothecarys, the scent of sage and other holy herbs still fresh. Saber took a seat beside the cracked remains of a church bell, which gave off a blunt ring as she sat against it, closing her eyes to shield herself from the horror. But even here, she was not safe. She had seen too much, and couldn't help but compare it all to Camlann.

Saber stared down at the ground before her feet, the only place she was safe from her thoughts or the ruined village. The soil was a standard brown color, although there was a silvery sheen to it. Small fragments of an unknown material sparkled as the sun emerged from behind the clouds for split second. Their peculiar color, one Saber could not recall ever seeing before, pulled her away from her dark thoughts, and though she was thankful for this distraction, their unearthly appearance made her chest tighten.

Saber would have loved to study these strange features even more, but there came a pleasant humming sound, echoing off the walls of the pit. She quickly dove behind the cracked bell, watching as a blue ray of light gave birth to the figure of a gem soldier. She was a good head taller than Bismuth, and even with her magical circuits to give her superhuman strength, Saber was hesitant to confront her.

There was one thing odd about this new arrival, however; its head was poking out of her elbow like a wart.

"Idiot Peridots, with their new technologies. 'Hey, the Diamond's budget passed, and we have nothing else to do, let's mess around with warp technology.'"

The gem held her arms out, her body consumed by white light, until she was back to her usual self.

"Portable warp pad. Hopefully someone gets shattered for this."

Saber's heart pounded faster, the blood rushing to her head. This was the gem that had shattered Bismuth's friend; Jasper. The bell Saber was hiding behind made a slight ringing sound as Saber's trembling fist brushed against it, but Jasper didn't notice. Her attention was focused on a small device in her hand, which she pointed at the ground like a torch, still grumbling about Peridots. The device made a low _pong. _

_ Scan complete, _a monotone female voice spoke, coming out of the device. _No traces of known toxins or dangerous substances. Area safe for gem deployment._

"Hmph. So this is why we keep Peridots around? A Pebble could do this…"

Jasper placed the device on her belt, peering up at the Tower.

"I know you're here," she said loudly. Without waiting for Jasper to say another word, Saber emerged, her sword drawn. "You should know better than to think you could hide from a quartz soldier, human."

"You should know better than to underestimate a human's skill in battle. Unless you wish for a demonstration?"

Jasper placed a hand on her stomach as she howled with laughter.

"I have no interest in wasting my time on some human brat."

"I know who you are. You're the one that shattered Bismuth's friend."

This was enough to get Jasper's attention, and she turned and sized up Saber silently, focused on the concentrated air in the shape of Saber's sword.

"Tiger's Eye was a traitor. That's the way the rock tumbles. But a mercenary like you could never understand the complexities of Diamond Society. What it means to serve."

Saber couldn't help but smirk. First, at the irony of Jasper's statement, but also because she was reminded of Mordred in her younger days as a knight of the Round Table.

"In a past life, I too was a king. I find these Diamonds of yours to be oppressive, unjust, and tyrannical."

A helmet of solid orange instantiated, and wrapped itself around Jasper's forehead.

"Nobody speaks about the Diamonds that way in my presence. Especially not a lower life form like you."

Saber's armor whistled as she steadied herself.

"Then silence me, if you would like. But when I defeat you, I will leave you for Bismuth."

Jasper's charge came quicker than Saber had anticipated, and she barely raised her sword in time to avoid being bucked into the air. The force of the attack caused her to lose her footing, but Jasper offered her no time to recover. Saber dodged an uppercut, and caught the quartz soldier with a boot to the side of the head.

Stunned, Jasper jumped back and wiped at her mouth with the back of her arm. When her face emerged, however, a savage smile had crossed it. At this range, Saber could see the many welts and cuts across the gem's chest.

"Ha, good. A challenge," she muttered. The quartz then did something very unusual. She jumped into the air and performed a front somersault, then a few more in quick succession. Saber realized this attack strategy a couple seconds too late, as Jasper built up centrifugal energy and launched at her.

Saber attempted to concentrate her mana in her sword, but found her mana stores depleted. She was forced to dive out of the way at the last possible second, but Jasper's impact still managed to send Saber tumbling along the ground.

"I will say you fight like a king, jumping out of the way and avoiding contact," Jasper taunted, as she emerged from the crater made from her attack. Saber planted her sword in the ground and used it to pull herself up.

Why was her mana depleted? She looked in the direction of the Tower, thinking suddenly of Celica. Without her master, her existence in this world was under borrowed time!

Her mana may not have been available, but Saber knew that merely saying the name of her sword would unleash its full strength. But the last time she had done that…

Mordred's pained expression swam out of the darkness of her mind.

"Think fast!"

Saber felt the air leave her lungs as Jasper caught her in the ribs between her outstretched arms. The impact launched her into the air, and she crashed against the wall of one of the destroyed houses.

"Why aren't you fighting anymore? Why are you so...weak?"

It took longer for Saber to pull herself up this time.

"The Diamonds will always be superior to human kings," Jasper sneered. "They can at least last on the field of battle. They've earned the respect of their armies. I can't imagine a single soldier served proudly under you…"

Saber knew better than to let rage dictate her actions; she had heard worse insults on the field of battle. But the lion's heart that she had once possessed was beating slower than ever. Never had her morale felt so brittle. Her mana was depleted, and the status of her master unknown.

_I am no King. _

The instant the thought crossed her mind, something caught the corner of her eye. The corpse of a young girl, no more than 8 years of age, staring ahead with the same hollow expression as Mordred's.

The image added weight to the self doubt crushing her chest at first, until the thought of the injustice of it made her heart beat faster. . She thought of these villagers, who had their lives cut short so unfairly, and Bismuth, forced to watch her friend perish.

At once, Saber felt the blood of a king begin to flow again. Her ribs ached, and her legs trembled, but she would not waver.

"So, you wanna keep going, huh? Fine with me. I'll even let you have the next strike!"

Saber said nothing, instead closing her eyes and lifting her sword above her head.

_Lady of the Lake, I beseech you bless thine sword._

She did not have to open her eyes to know her sword had been revealed. She heard Jasper emit an audible gasp.

"What the…"

Saber's eyes crashed open, revealing two verdant green eyes blazing with power. Jasper, who rarely revealed doubt on the battlefield, slowly began to back away. Saber could not allow her to get away. Jasper was nothing more than a raider of her friend Bismuth's happiness, and she needed to be punished.

"Ex…" she began, as her sword flashed with the light of a thousand suns. She prepared to aim the blast in Jasper's direction, but just then, there was a low hum, though not quiet enough to be drowned out by Saber's blade.

_Jasper, presence requested at Diamond Moon Base._

The voice had distracted Saber enough to lower her sword, which again took on its ambiguous, invisible appearance.

"I suppose we'll have to finish this another time," Jasper said, pulling the portable warp pad off her belt. "Human king."

With a flash, Jasper was gone, leaving Saber alone. This moment would not last, for soon, there was the sound of footsteps echoing off the distant slopes of the pit.

"You continue to be a thorn in my side."

Saber couldn't turn around fast enough, before three chains coiled around her and trapped her against the church bell. The impact caused it to ring at its loudest pitch, though not loudly enough to drown out the sound of Gilgamesh's laughter.

Gilgamesh's measured footsteps moved closer, followed by the nervous shuffling of another set of feet. Struggle as she might to break free, or at least get in a position where she could see her adversaries, Saber knew her divinity was simply too strong to allow her to wiggle free from the Chains of Enkidu.

"I must commend you for taking care of that orange eyesore. You saved me from having to waste my precious treasures."

"Gilgamesh, what have you done with my master? Is she alive?!"

Gilgamesh waited to respond, using the suspense as a sort of sick game. Saber could picture his smirking face in her mind's eye.

"Yes," he said finally. "Although her time is limited. Soon, Duma will awaken and feast on her heart, and he will be invincible."

"I see you haven't changed. You couldn't change the world in the last Holy Grail War, and you won't change it now."

"Rushing to conclusions again, are we? It's remarkable how your inexperience as a king shines through."

"What king aspires to destroy the very world that worships him so?"

"I thought I made it clear to you in our last encounter," Gilgamesh began. Saber's ribs, injured already, burned as the chains tightened their grip and lifted her in the air. She could see now that Gilgamesh was not indeed alone this time. A young man, wearing a luxurious set of crimson traveling robes, stood next to him, his head bowed in fealty.

"Humanity is a plague upon society. Creating wars, spreading plagues amongst themselves...in the grand scheme of existence, they are lower than rats. You may have thwarted me in our last encounter, King of Knights, and my respect for you germinates from that. But I never abandoned my intentions. I waited within the Grail for another chance at materialization, when I heeded the call of my master."

Gilgamesh motioned for the boy to move forward, which he did slowly.

"I do not believe you have met my master, Berkut. He is the crown prince of Rigel, the mightiest nation on this continent, and as such, he will be the rightful retainer of the new world I shall create."

Berkut averted Saber's appeasing gaze, and quickly shuffled behind Gilgamesh.

"Now, the question remains: what to do with you?"

"You will have to kill me, King of Heroes," Saber said. "If you let me live, I will crawl out of the deepest grave, I will cross the largest sea, if it means reaching my master."

"Your will was never in doubt, Saber. Nevertheless, simply killing you wouldn't be very entertaining."

Gilgamesh's lips curled into a sinister smile.

"Perhaps you could send a message to the Alm boy, who will likely be joining us soon with his group. Or rather, your corpse will. I shall allow Duma's children, the 'Terrors' as your human friends prefer to call them, to feast on you. Your sacrifice will send a warning to those who think they can tamper with the will of the Gods."

"You're insane," Saber sneered. "And when Alm finds out what you have done to Celica, he will punish you."

"No mortal, no matter what 'destiny' they boast, can match me. Alm is the least of my concerns."

Saber could not miss the slight flicker of doubt in Gilgamesh's eyes. They had had enough encounters for her to know there was more behind this statement.

"Someone with Alm will challenge you, and he will hold his own," she said. Gilgamesh's smug expression didn't waver, although his eyes flickered again.

"But even so, it is too late. On this eve, the world begins anew," Gilgamesh said. The Chains of Enkidu pinned Saber against the church bell again.

"Come, Berkut," Gilgamesh barked as he paced in the direction of the Tower. Berkut tailed him like an obedient dog.

"He will betray you," Saber yelled, the effort of doing so causing her ribs to vibrate painfully. Berkut stopped, but did not look up. "You are nothing but an object to him. Turn back now, before it is too late."

Berkut removed his cowl and looked back at Saber, his face ghostly pale. He opened his mouth to speak several times, but nothing came out.

"Berkut!"

Gilgamesh's voice severed Berkut's moment of self-reflection, and he quickly replaced his cloak and hurried after him again.

"Go on," Gilgamesh said as Berkut hurried by him, and turned to regard Saber.

"You should've become my wife when you had the chance," he said, not in his usual cold manner.

"I am not some treasure to be stowed in your vault, Gilgamesh. And neither is the boy."

Gilgamesh looked in the direction of the Tower, back at Saber one final time, before pacing towards the Tower again, quicker than before.


	28. Chapter 28: Farewell to the False Prince

Gilgamesh, led by his "master" Berkut, entered the Tower of Duma, the latter's submissive manner vanishing as he drank in the Tower's magnificence once again. It was a rather annoying habit, but the boy's time was borrowed; there was no need to deny him a final moment of joy.

He couldn't help but smirk as Berkut admired the marble statues of Duma, believed to be the only true carvings of Duma as a live model. They passed through the opening in the center of the tower, and Berkut almost lost his footing as he stared up at the vaults, balconies and landings of the upper floors, the rest was lost in a deep blanket of dust.

Though the air was stale and oppressive, and the bland color of parchment bathed the scene, Berkut's eyes paused on every new sight. He admired the pattern of sharp curves that moved along the perimeter of the central chamber, broken up occasionally by pikes of marble jutting out from the walls. From the perspective at the bottom of this chamber, the Tower looked like a massive predator with multiple rows of teeth, baring its fangs and closing in, but this did not seem to frighten him.

He was still a child, despite the imperious aura he gave off in the presence of lesser men. The image of the young man prancing around the room tore at Gilgamesh's heart.

Gilgamesh wondered how to do it. Right now, with his back turned? Or did the boy deserve to know the truth, or even the fate of his wife?

"Oh," Berkut gasped, as a gargoyle landed in front of him, pointing its scythe at the boy's heart. Though the gargoyles had seen Berkut before, and had been given specific instructions _not _to impede the prince, the smell of human flesh from any vessel was enough to summon them.

"Leave him," Gilgamesh snarled in their primitive language, and the reptilian creature slowly lowered its scythe and allowed Berkut to pass. One could not be too patient with gargoyles; they were ravenous and stupid, a dangerous combination. Despite the curt tongue lashing from its master, the gargoyle licked its lips hungrily, its scythe screeching along the floor as it took off.

"Since when could you talk to Terrors?" Berkut asked, catching up to Gilgamesh. They paused at the stairwell leading down into the basement, where Duma's ashes had been laid to rest so many centuries before. Until now.

"There are many things I have yet to tell you, but in due time. Right now, we must prepare the rites, before more of those parasites show up."

Berkut initially thought of the gargoyles, but soon realized Gilgamesh was referring to something else entirely.

"You mean...those gems are coming here?"

Their footsteps and voices echoed around them as they descended into the murky darkness.

"That is why the orange one was here, I'm afraid. We will have company, though even I have no idea what they intend to do when they arrive."

The climb seemed to last an eternity, and the smell of dry soil was growing stronger and the air thinner. Finally, they stepped out into the vast darkness of the mausoleum. No torches had been lit yet, and the lack of oxygen was beginning to manifest as shadows, darting hitherto in and out of the darkest corners of the room. With a snap of Gilgamesh's fingers, flames erupted from their torches, and the smell of oil filled the room.

Berkut had already dropped to his knees. Upon the crimson carpet leading up to the altar where Duma was resting, was the corpse of a beautiful young woman. Her hair fell over her eyes in light curls like light blue waves in a pond, and though she was ghastly pale, the minimal light of the two flickering candles on the steps below her managed to capture her beauty in their amber glow.

"R...rin…"

The tears came, as Gilgamesh had expected them to. He placed a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"I'll tear Alm apart limb from limb for this...I'll gut that wench of his as payback."

"There will be no need for that," Gilgamesh interrupted, pacing towards the altar and extinguishing the two candles with his fingers. He picked up Rinea's corpse in his arms, carrying her over to her waiting husband.

"Are you saying Alm didn't do this?"

"No," Gilgamesh said, setting Rinea down at Berkut's feet. "I did."

Total silence engulfed the room. Not one candle or torch flickered. Berkut, who was typically so easy to read, regarded Gilgamesh as if he had never met the man before.

"I...you...what?"

"Rinea has never served you. She never served us. Even when she was ordered by you to poison Rudolf, she could not perform the task. Her mind was compromised with morality. Plain, simple, pathetic morality."

Berkut could hardly believe what he was hearing. But as he rolled his wife's corpse over, the holes in her chest was all it took to convince him. Even in death, she was breathtaking, like a fresco painting. A fresh torrent of tears came forth.

"I understand your pain, but as the retainer of our new world, you will be far too busy to love or begin a family. You must release all of your terrestrial holdings, for none of them will be spared the horror that is to come. Fernand was only the first."

How could Berkut prepare for this reality when, in every fantasy he had ever had, Rinea had been by his side.

"You killed...my wife."

Speaking the words aloud gave him confirmation, and rage mingled with grief in his chest. His head began to pound, in tune with the pounding of his heart.

"Do not make the same mistake as Rinea. You must concentrate all of your energy into…"

"You killed my wife," Berkut repeated, louder than before.

"Do not think your grief permits you to interrupt me…"

"You killed my wife!" Berkut screamed, drawing his sword and pointing it at Gilgamesh. It took a lot to spook the King of Knights, but in his panic to back away from the boy, he had launched one of his swords in the prince's direction. It barely missed Berkut's head, instead crashing into the opposite wall.

"My prince," Gilgamesh said, holding his hands out appeasingly. "I beseech you not to act irrationally. Can you not see how close we are? The world we've always wanted, it's there for the taking. Don't let this fleeting moment of anguish tear you away from the perfect world you've always envisioned."

Berkut's sword trembled in his hands, scattering silver flakes of light around the room. He pushed a lock of brown hair out of his eyes and continued.

"Did you even stop to think, for a moment, why I wanted to rule the world?"

Though his voice was strained, every syllable he spoke had meaning. It was a quality Gilgamesh had yet to hear out of the boy. It was not the superficial voice Berkut adopted around commoners, but it was somehow even more powerful.

"I don't hate the peasantry, like you do. I don't hate humanity, even though I've seen the depths to which it can sink."

Berkut wiped the tears from his eyes, but they sprung out again as he looked at the beautiful corpse in his arms.

"Rinea grew up in a peasant family. Every day, her father would abuse her in a drunken stupor. That was how I met her, you know. I came across her father, flogging her simply because she had allowed a basket of eggs to fall from her hand. That day, I saved her, and Rudolf allowed her to live in the castle with us. Two months later, I proposed.

"It's taken me all this time to realize I was wrong to blame her father for the life she led. The Gods have forsaken this planet, left millions of people to starve and rot in their own squalor. That basket of eggs Rinea was carrying? That was their dinner for a week. I would never defend anyone who abused Rinea, but somewhere, deep within my soul, I can understand the pressure of having a family to raise. I may never have experienced it myself, but having traveled the Rigelian countryside with you, his actions are mere child's play to what I've seen."

For the first time, Berkut felt comfort in the words he spoke. They did not come from the mouth of a false prince, but from the very recesses of his heart. Though Gilgamesh's crimson eyes flickered venomously with every word, Berkut continued, knowing every word was keeping him at bay.

"When Duma spoke to me all those seasons ago, when I first came to this part of the country, he told me you would be the key to changing the world. To make a world where people didn't have to cross blades in the name of selfish politics. A world where people didn't starve themselves, simply to allow their children to survive. Like you, I wanted to change the world...but only to make it better. I can see now that you only care about the destruction of humanity. And I can see now that Duma was wrong!"

Berkut kept his sword raised, prepared for a weapon to be launched at him for speaking out of turn. For speaking ill of Duma. Instead, Gilgamesh lowered his head appraisingly, and nodded calmly.

"I must say, I am most impressed you have deduced at least a portion of my true purpose. You have provided me the human blueprint for changing the world, a simple set of ideals that only a human could comprehend. Allow me to share the true desire of the Gods.

"Humanity is but a fleeting stain in the passage of time. A stain of impressive technical feats, definitive works of art, sure. But also of bloodshed. Of charity, and foolhardy conviction. The ballad of humanity is a confusing one. Capable of doing good, but unable to help themselves when the opportunity to commit evil appears. With humanity gone, the Gods can impress their mores upon the world once again. There is simply no such thing as a utopia where humans rein."

Berkut shook his head.

"You're insane."

Gilgamesh's forehead bulged impatiently.

"On the contrary, you simply cannot understand the methodology of the Gods. The pain of watching the world that we once traversed, and charitably handed over to mortal beings, go to waste."

"Unless you've forgotten," Berkut said with a savage smile. "You are still my servant."

"The command seals were in your wife's employ. Now she is dead. You're smart enough to know what that means.

Berkut closed his eyes, and inhaled deeply.

"I will prevent you from accomplishing what you desire."

"Berkut, I will give you one last chan-"

"Save it!" the prince snapped. The torches in the room flickered ominously. "Right here and now, I will put an end to this."

But the instant Berkut raised his sword, there was a flash of golden light, and a dagger pierced his hand. His sword fell to the ground, and clutching his hand, Berkut followed. Rinea tumbled out of his grip, rolling delicately across the floor.

The light of the Gates of Babylon had obscured Gilgamesh's features, although Berkut could tell the King of Heroes was not enjoying himself like he typically would. Using his good hand, Berkut attempted to pull himself towards his sword by wrapping his fingers around bumps in the uneven flooring.

"Do not struggle," Gilgamesh said in a monotone voice. Berkut only turned his head in response, baring bloodstained teeth at him, while still inching closer to his sword.

A second, larger weapon skewered Berkut's shoulder blade, and howling in pain, he finally gave up his pursuit. His head lolled to the side, so that he was face to face with Rinea. His wife, who would've ruled their new world together with him. The woman he had loved from the moment he had helped her to her feet that fateful day, and the woman he would be joining soon enough.

Gilgamesh closed his eyes, unable to watch as the killing blow, in the form of an ancient spear with Sanskrit origins, crushed Berkut's skull. For the better part of an hour, Gilgamesh merely sat on the stairs leading up to Duma's altar, looking back and forth between the two young people whose lives had been cut short because of him.

He had already committed so many atrocities (at least in the human sense) to that point, and these two murders had hardly been the worst. Nevertheless, there was a sort of innocence to the way the two corpses were looking at each other that made Gilgamesh's chest hurt.

The sound of heavy wingbeats, echoing off the walls of the mausoleum, indicated that he was about to be visited by gargoyles. The creature studied the two corpses hungrily, before telling Gilgamesh in its screeching drivel of a language that Alm was on his way.

_Alm…_

Before Berkut had died, Gilgamesh had not revealed that Alm was, indeed, his true master. Whether the boy prince had any idea of this did not phase Gilgamesh, however; it was too late. His strength was far too great to be contained by a mere command seal, and Duma would crush the boy in his iron maws.

Suddenly, a horrific idea came to Gilgamesh, one that brought an abrupt end to his brief moment of humanity. Perhaps Berkut and Rinea could still be useful after all...


	29. Chapter 29: Mogalls

Until this point, Alm's moments of grief had been limited to putting down his childhood sheepdog, or Celica's sudden departure. He had handled the initial shock of his father's death quite well.

But now, the grief had begun to settle like muck at the bottom of a pond. His chest felt heavier, his cheeks and the skin around his eyes burned as tears threatened to burst forth at any moment. He was traveling well behind the rest of the group, studying the bland brown rockfalls that supported the subterranean path to the Tower of Duma. Mycen had told the group of this secret passage once the emperor had been properly put to rest, and Alm had time to recover from the night's revelations.

"Alm, are you sure you're okay to make the journey today?"

No emotion could escape the matronly gaze of Rose Quartz. It seemed surreal to Alm that, just 24 hours before, his greatest concern had been Rose's secret. 24 hours of bloodshed, revelation, and heartbreak later, and Alm would prefer a simple matter of trust over the conflicting emotions inflaming his chest.

"No...but I don't have a choice," Alm said. "We have to put an end to Gilgamesh's game, or there will not be a world left to save."

"Alm, there is always another day…"

"Not this time," Alm snapped.

He shook his head, and placed a reassuring hand on Rose's shoulder. Rose offered Alm a gentle smile in response, though a hint of indignation flashed in her eyes.

"Sorry," Alm said. "I wish I could rest, but I'm a king now. What kind of king would I be if I let my people perish for the sake of my own well-being?"

Rose's expression saddened, and she quickened her pace until she was leading the group. Alm had almost forgotten about Rose's secret identity. The guilt of this knowledge only weighed him down more.

It was Carocol's turn to check on the newly crowned King of Rigel.

"This may not mean that much, considering I am the last of my people, but you have the full support of the Yasha in this crisis."

"Coming from you," Alm said with a lilt of irony in his voice "that means a lot."

"This madman will pay for slaying my people. For turning my father against me."

"You stole my line," Alm assented. Carocol smiled back in return. "I see you have already reneged on your island's tradition of neutrality?"

"I have learned from you that nothing gets done by standing back and weighing options. My father, bless his soul, held that value so tightly, it cost him his life, as well as nearly everyone I've ever known."

"I am glad you no longer hesitate to take action," Alm said, placing the same hand he had used to reassure Rose on Carocol's shoulder. "Your combat skills, I have never questioned. The corpses of our foes will surround you. And when I bring down Gilgamesh…"

Carocol roughly brushed Alm's hand away.

"I must be the one to kill Gilgamesh," Carocol said in a leery voice. "It was on my island, at the expense of my people, that his rampage began."

"Carocol," Alm said in a similarly threatening voice. "This man forcibly took over my kingdom, contributed to its squalor state, and murdered our emperor. My father. I cannot stand by and watch you have all the fun."

"The irony...you dress my neutral tradition down, but when I have reason to take action you tell me to stand down."

Alm leaned back and shut his eyes, the flames of exasperation combusting the guilt and grief in his chest. Only a mere few hours into Alm's reign, and he was already wrestling with his first international incident.

"You've seen the crests on my hand," Alm said, holding out the back of his fist. "When they emerge, I will be able to control Gilgamesh. I can order him to destroy himself."

"There is no certainty in that. Your crests are still weak, and as much as you have impressed me during our travels, you are still no match for him."

"And you are?"

Carocol glanced up at his mane of pink hair, a welcome shade of color over the fetid brown tone of the tunnel.

"He can hit me with every sword in his arsenal, and I would not fall. He'll run out eventually."

"Perhaps in a decade, you can tell that story to the alien beings that will colonize the remains of our continent."

"Alm!" Rose said urgently.

"Rose, I am not going to stand do-"

But Alm quickly deduced the real reason for her interruption. At the end of the tunnel, a lone figure was approaching them. The figure appeared to be mounted, though the shadow this creature cast along the walls was bizarre and multi-faceted, like a blooming poinsettia. It was making a hissing noise, like that of a cicada, the frequency Alm's chest.

The figure and his steed came to a halt, and for a moment the Crystal Deliverance and the figure stared one another down. There was the unmistakable sound of silver, and Garnet was the only one who could see that the figure had drawn a sword, although he made no motion in their direction.

"Reveal yourself, fair knight," Alm called, as he and Carocol slowly crept forward until they stood shoulder to shoulder with Rose. The knight said nothing, merely pointing his sword in the direction of the Crystal Deliverance like a jouster preparing to charge.

"Run…" it finally whispered. Alm recognized the voice immediately.

"Berkut!" Alm and Carocol drew their weapons, Pearl, Garnet, and Rose summoning their own in unison.

"Please...run," Berkut repeated. It was not a threat, but a desperate plea. The Crystal Deliverance inched closer until Berkut, or at least what used to be Berkut, was visible. His face looked like a melted candle, the flesh of his cheeks and forehead sliding down until it consumed his eyes, nose, and mouth. He was not mounted in the proper sense like a cavalier or paladin; instead, he was leaning against the head of his mount as if he were sleeping.

The creature he rode upon was even more fantastic than its shadow had suggested. It was a bizarre cross of a salamander, a lion, and a horse, with a set of thin, scaly wings folded against its torso. It's eyes were like rubies, and seemed to burn as if hell itself was contained within them. Every few seconds, the creature's scales would rattle, the present setting making it uncomfortable.

"So, I see Duma is rewarding your loyalty," Alm teased. Berkut said nothing. Garnet stepped in front of the party and pulled her goggles off, using her three eyes to appraise the apparition before them.

"Something's wrong," she said.

"They're coming," Berkut whispered before Garnet could explain herself. As if on cue, hundreds of eyes the size of garden spheres opened in the darkness behind him. Each one slowly got bigger, their irises blood-red and hungry, until their entire composition was visible. These creatures resembled cephalopods, with sets of tentacles that hung from their sole, unblinking eyes like shredded drapes. Smaller eyes bubbled up from within their flesh, staring in every direction.

"Mogalls," Alm said, more to himself than his allies. Among the Terrors, Mogalls were considered the special forces. Alone, Alm knew them to be harmless, but their ability to reproduce into three or four more creatures rapidly meant that facing even a handful of these creatures required the strength of an entire army. In the numbers the Crystal Deliverance found themselves facing, they were practically invincible.

"I told you...to...run…"

"Berkut, what's going on? What happened to you?"

"I'm...dead," he answered. "Rinea...she…"

Berkut would not be able to finish his sentence. He uttered an inhuman roar, and clutched his head as if some parasite were attached to his brain. Pearl clutched her mouth in horror.

When Berkut finally ceased, something both incredible and nauseating began to happen. The flesh on Berkut's face began to set back in place, although this new face was not the rosy, youthful one it had been before. It had a mealy, gray appearance, like that of a revenant. His eyes were vapid white orbs, his mouth open in an unbalanced manner as if he were screaming.

Berkut said something in a throaty language, and without a moment's hesitation the Mogalls began to charge.

"Bunch up!"

Heeding Alm's command, the Crystal Deliverance stood back to back in a circle. Alm was the first to clash with the assaulting fiends, using his sword to cut the first Mogall in half as it attempted to ram him. A forest green spray of bodily fluids engulfed him, and bile crept into his throat as the rotten, fishy odor assailed his nostrils and mouth.

"Agh," Pearl whined as she skewered a Mogall right in its oversized cornea, and it too exploded blood all over her. The next wave of Mogalls came to a halt, and Alm thought at first that it was hesitancy to attack after witnessing the death of two of their comrades. However, in a few moments it would become apparent what they were waiting for.

Instead of dripping off of his armor like rainwater, the fluids the slain Mogall had shed hardened on Alm's armor like moss on a tree. Every movement of his arms and legs required a herculean effort, and the weight of this green crust was growing with each moment.

"What's...going on," Pearl groaned. On account of her smaller frame and the lack of protective armor, the effect of the Mogall's fluids on her was proving to be exponentially worse. She gasped for air as the hardening fluids crushed her ribs, forcing her on all fours.

At that moment, one of the Mogalls charged at Alm. Though it took all of his strength, he managed to get in a good lick on the creature's eye, and it collapsed to the ground and writhed in the filthy cave soil until finally going still. The effort of this single, simple motion had left Alm breathless, however, and two more of the creatures were already flanking him.

Rose launched her shield at one, catching it with a glancing blow which disrupted its descent. The second, however, caught Alm in the side of his ribs, sending him airborne. He couldn't move his arms to control his aerial travel, and he face-planted into the ground, his mouth filling with foul soil.

The Mogall paused to see the effect of its attack, more than enough time for Carocol to cut it down. Wisely, the Yasha had attacked the tendon connecting its tentacles with its eye, and the spray of bodily fluids was minimal. With two members of the Crystal Deliverance out of commission, however, it was open season for the many Mogalls that remained.

In fact, when Alm managed to lift his head, he saw that the Mogalls that had halted before had already multiplied, so that as they charged the group they looked like a purple tidal wave. He attempted to stand, but the weight on his limbs and torso proved to be too much. Pearl, meanwhile, had begun to glow, and Alm had traveled long enough with the gems to know what would happen to her soon.

As this was happening, Carocol, Garnet, and Rose were forced to learn how to fight off the unstoppable surge of Mogalls without cutting them down to size. Carocol put his extensive martial arts training to good use, kicking and punching at the creature's eyes as they lunged at him, although this was only to delay their approach. Rose used her shield as a sort of battering ram to hold them back, although at one juncture she launched her sword at a distant Mogall, which exploded with a fountain of bodily fluids that thankfully missed any living participant. Like Carocol, however, Rose seemed only capable of holding them back.

Garnet was proving to have the most success. Though the anatomy of the Mogall was a mystery to those outside of the Duma Faithful, watching the results of Garnet's strikes to the corneas of the Mogalls indicated their brains were located there. Already, at least ten of the creatures were writhing at her feet. If she missed the mark, the creatures were still forced a good few feet back, and seemed to think twice about attacking her.

Unfortunately, even Garnet's efforts appeared to be fruitless. The creatures continued to spawn at a frightful rate. Alm watched as one Mogall caught Carocol square in the ribs, and as he doubled over in pain another caught him in the back of his neck, forcing him to the ground. Rose had surrounded herself with a pink bubble, the Mogalls knocking her around as if she were an object of a ball sport. Garnet was in even worse shape than Carocol, for every time she attempted to stand the creatures would knock her to the ground again.

Even Alm, ever the optimist in the face of indomitable odds, could only look upon this situation hopelessly. He attempted to surrender on their behalf, but he could not breathe in the air required to respond.

But as he wondered how to surrender non-verbally to the creatures, the opposite wall of the tunnel from where he lay exploded. The noise alone spooked the Mogalls, and they silently retreated into the air above the cloud of dust the explosion had generated. Alm and Rose, the only two able to witness this unusual intrusion in their group, and the Mogalls both looked on in confusion.

"I _see..._you're in a bit of a bind," came a new, husky voice from the source of the explosion.

The dust cleared to reveal another gem, with braids of hair in every color of the rainbow and a similarly prismatic opening in her chest. It was not her appearance that stunned Alm, however, but the sword she toted over her shoulder. It was nothing longer than a mere dagger, although the golden sheen it seemed to give off looked oddly familiar to him, though he could not remember where or when he had seen it before.

"Bismuth!" Rose cried, forgetting the situation and emerging from her bubble to jump into her friends waiting arms. "I thought you were...we thought…"

"...that I was shattered?" Bismuth finished Rose's thought with a chuckle. "Not even the largest sledgehammer in the galaxy could break me. I'm a Crystal Gem, remember?"

"I'm just glad you're okay," Rose sobbed. Alm saw that Garnet had also gotten to her feet. She had removed her goggles again, and was gazing upon the scene tearfully.

The moment did not last, as there was a collective sound of twitching tentacles. Alm could only watch as the waiting Mogalls surged forward, and once again they appeared to have multiplied during the brief moment of ceasefire.

"I got this," Bismuth said, jumping into the air to meet the oncoming demons, sword at the ready.

"Wait!" Garnet called, but it was too late. Bismuth swung with all her might, slicing three of the things in half with the blade. Alm waited for the creatures to explode. To coat this new ally in their fetid fluids and crush her. But instead, the slain Mogalls glowed for a split second and disappeared in a brilliant flash of yellow light.

"This sword specializes in slaying these things. I can't tell you how many of them I fought on the way here," Bismuth said as she landed safely on the ground. The Mogalls, seeing this, reneged on their assault. Their greatest strategy had been unravelled.

"Come on, you peeping Toms! I'll cut you all down!" Bismuth cried.

Instead, the Mogalls' initiated a chorus of twitching tentacles, and fled back into the darkness of the cave. Berkut lingered for a few moments, leering at the new arrival before retreating with his precious soldiers

Bismuth waited a few moments to ensure the creatures were gone, before relaxing her stance and helping Carocol to his feet.

"You must be Alm, right? Celica has told me all about you…"

"Actually, that's Alm over there," Rose said, and Bismuth followed her gaze. Alm didn't even wait for Bismuth to greet him.

"You...know...Celica?" he choked out, for his lungs were still compressed.

"Don't talk kid, I'll get you out," she said, and with a mere tap of her sword, Alm was freed from his horrid bonds. "Celica was on a pilgrimage up to the Tower when we met. We both got into a pretty tight jam with some Terrors, but another human who called herself Saber suddenly showed up to help."

"That must be the other servant," Alm said, more to himself.

"Bismuth, I know you and Alm have a lot to talk about, but…"

"Oh stars!" Bismuth screamed as she saw Pearl, who was still motionless and glowing on the ground. Bismuth freed Pearl from her bonds, the latter sitting up and holding her head.

"Ugh, thank you," Pearl moaned. "That felt even worse than eating food."

It took Pearl a moment to recognize the gem smiling down at her, but when she did she screamed and embraced her as tearfully as Rose had done. Garnet slowly walked over and followed suit.

"It's so good to see you...Where's Tiger's Eye?"

Bismuth let Pearl slide from her arms, and looked at the ground sadly.

"Jasper," she said, and Alm didn't miss the flicker of pure hatred that reflected in her eyes as she said the vile gem's name.

"Oh no," Pearl moaned, covering her mouth with her hands. Rose and Garnet exchanged sad glances, but could think of nothing else to say.

"It's okay though," Bismuth said. "I was helping Celica before and...I want to help her now. I want to save this planet."

Rose smiled and opened her mouth to speak, but Alm cut her off.

"Where is she?"

"This Gulga-whozitt guy took her. Saber seemed to know who he was, and she ended up going after her. And I...well…"

"You left her?" Alm snapped.

"I'm sorry, I know it looks bad, but I…"

"You lost a friend."

It was Carocol who spoke, still clutching his ribs from where the Mogall had rammed him.

"Yeah," Bismuth said. "I guess at the time I still wasn't over it. I'm still not...but I want to make it right. I'm here to help in any way I can."

"We're glad to have you," Carocol said without smiling. The other gems looked upon Bismuth fondly. Alm's stomach twitched with guilt, as he regretted snapping at her.

"We need to hurry," Rose said. "Every second, that madman gets closer to destroying the Earth."

Carocol nodded and led the way into the dark tunnel. Alm, Pearl, and Garnet followed, but Rose waited back with Bismuth, who was still hanging her head.

"Bismuth, are you okay?"

Bismuth smiled weakly.

"At least you're still alive," she said. "I guess that makes it okay."

"We can't let your friend's sacrifice count for nothing," Rose said, following the others into the tunnel. Bismuth mulled over these words for a second, and though Rose had not seen it, Bismuth's eyes had flashed angrily again when Rose referred to Tiger's Eye as simply "a friend."

"Yeah," Bismuth said, waiting a few moments before she too joined the others as they went deeper into the tunnel.


	30. Chapter 30: A Bone to Pick

Yellow Diamond's chest was tight, but this was a normal sensation one felt before talking to White. As she ascended the levitating stairs, leading to the Moonbase Observatory where White had taken up residence since the operation to extract Duma began, she rehearsed in her mind what she was going to say. She did not need a Sapphire to tell her that she would still inevitably trip over her words, but having parameters for the discussion was always better than nothing.

The lights were off in the observatory when Yellow arrived, and she stepped quietly into the room, thinking White was asleep. The Earth, that blue-green swamp of a planet, bathed the observatory in its teal pallor. White's outline was visible in the throne in the center of the room, resting her head on her shoulder. White's Pearl emerged from behind the throne, gliding across the floor without moving its legs in her typical, eerie fashion.

"Yellow," White's Pearl said, in the same, bewitching voice as her master. "White is merely observing the Earth one final time before its imminent destruction. You may approach if you wish."

"R-right," Yellow gulped, clutching her chest nervously. It was strange for a Diamond to cower before a mere Pearl, but even White's Pearl could make the hardiest gem quiver in fear. Yellow slowly approached the throne, until she was shoulder to shoulder with White.

"Yellow, how are you?"

"F-fine, I h-h…"

"Yes, I know. I understand you assigned Pink's former lieutenant to investigate the staging area for our operation. How did it go?"

"Jasper says th-that th-the site is fine," Yellow said, throwing in a quick "my Diamond" when she finished.

"I see," said White, in the tone that typically preceded sharing something she knew that Yellow did not. "It is my understanding that she encountered some feeble resistance from a human?"

Yellow felt a wave of anger flow through her, directed at Jasper. How dare the quartz soldier go under her crust and report to White without telling her!

"Relax, Yellow, there is no need to be upset with Jasper," White said, always strangely aware of what the other gem in the conversation was thinking. "I know all, I see all."

"R-right." Somehow, Yellow knew what White meant. "Well, in any case, we are good to land whenever you please."

White studied the Earth for a moment, its pale surface reflecting in her bedazzling, white irises.

"I would like to begin the assault in a couple of hours, Yellow."

Yellow's heart skipped a beat. What White was asking for was not only unexpected, but impossible. This was supposed to be a mere extraction, not a planetary assault...and she had not the forces to handle any potential resistance from Terrors, foreign armies, or a Crystal Gem guerilla attack.

Once again, White demonstrated her impeccable clairvoyance.

"Will this be a problem?"

With any other gem, Yellow would have no problem saying yes. In fact, she would gladly castigate the gem for suggesting something so reckless. But this was White Diamond, and she was staring through, not at, Yellow with the closest thing to an impatient stare.

"W-well, most of my forces were assisting Blue with a colonization in an entirely different part of the galaxy. I think they returned to Homeworld with her...The only soldiers I have are the remnants of Pink's-" the mention of Pink Diamond always made Yellow shiver these days "-forces."

"So...your answer is yes."

Yellow didn't dare answer. She didn't even nod in agreement.

"You must be wondering why I have moved the timetable of our operation up so quickly...It is my understanding that another source wishes to awaken the creature known as Duma."

Yellow remembered something from a report Aquamarine had submitted to her; a conversation between two humans. Could it have been one of them?

"Why," Yellow began, putting a hand under her chin, "would a human wish to destroy his own planet?"

"I know not," White responded. "But we must capture this beast before our human friend, or my precious weapon is lost. Yellow, you will take what forces you have to the surface and subjugate this human. Only then can we extract the package safely."

Aquamarine had been destablized by one of these humans, if the report was to be believed. As annoyingly headstrong as the little gem was, Aquamarine was still Blue's favored agent, and was far too capable to allow a single human to bring her down. Pink's forces were notorious for being uncoordinated and difficult to manage, a trait they likely gleaned from Pink herself. Once again, Yellow kept her thoughts to herself. This time, however, White didn't seem to catch on.

"There are also reports that the Crystal Gems are on their way to the impact crater, accompanied by a couple of humans in their own right. If they attack, do not be afraid to engage...but the priority is the package."

Yellow would've relished the opportunity to crush the rebels, especially Rose Quartz, under her boot, but the thought of angering White had set her priorities straight. There was another gem, however, with the potential to go on a vigilante warpath.

It would be easy simply to leave Jasper behind, considering her recent failure. But with so few soldiers at her disposal, and the sudden departure of Aquamarine to join Blue Diamond, Yellow was far too shorthanded to leave an asset behind.

"Can I entrust you to keep your gems on point?"

Yellow nodded automatically, but she could not betray the doubt in her eyes. White's eyes twinkled, but she said nothing.

"I will contact Blue, and have her forces as well as yours rendevouz with you when they arrive."

"I don't think Blue will come," Yellow said, covering her mouth as she realized the mistake of contradicting White. To her relief, White was too lost in her own thoughts to berate her.

"She will if I call her," White said. "She cannot grieve forever."

Yellow nodded, and bowed before White.

"Yellow...you have been so patient. Soon, this world will no longer exist, and we will have reaped its only treasure for ourselves. And we can move on."

Yellow stood up, bowed her head, and slowly ambled towards the stairs. Once she knew she was out of earshot, she quickened her pace, and did not slow down until she reached her ship. She took one more withering look at the Earth, imagining it being blown to bits in an attempt to cheer herself up. Somehow, it only made her feel worse.

Saber wondered why it had taken so long. After what felt like centuries of fruitlessly fighting Gilgamesh's binds, with intermittent periods of rest and, admittedly, some self-loathing, the sun had peeked through the overcast sky at its midday zenith.

But finally, there was a ghastly howl above her in the direction of the Tower, and she looked to see a gathering mass of hungry Terrors. Gargoyles, just as fearsome as they had been in the Lost Treescape, let their scythes hang loosely from their arms, as they descended into the pit slowly.

Behind this vanguard of five gargoyles were creatures new to Saber, though no less frightening. These were the bonewalkers, the reanimated skeletons of fallen warriors who had pledged themselves to Duma, wielding blades made from the extra joints they did not need in the afterlife. Goosebumps surfaced on Saber's skin, as their bones clicked and grinded against one another with every step in her direction. Even worse were their eyes, which were literally ablaze, as if the flames of hell were rising from their stomachs and escaping through their hollow eye sockets.

Once more, she attempted to break away from Gilgamesh's chains, but her mana source was even more depleted than before. Every muscle felt both heavy and light at the same time…

Her struggle was interrupted by an explosion nearby, and she looked up in time to catch a clump of earth in her face. Unable to wipe the grime away, she could only listen to the angry howls of the Terrors, followed by the familiar melody of swordplay.

"Let me take care of that one," said a familiar, confident voice, and Saber shook her head in an attempt to rid her face of dirt and confirm her suspicion. Indeed, the rainbow-headed figure of Bismuth had pinned a bonewalker to the ground. It roared in Bismuth's face in a final show of defiance, but was silenced as Bismuth's mallet-hand caved its face in.

She had not come alone. A young man with striking green hair and boyish features was engaged with both a gargoyle and a bonewalker. It was a tricky combination of foes, but the boy was holding his own like a veteran of his craft. The gargoyle swooped down with its scythe aimed at the boy's neck, just as the bonewalker had raised its sword to crush him. The boy ducked to avoid decapitation from the gargoyle, while parrying the blow from the bonewalker. Without wasting a second, the boy plunged his sword through the creature's skull, and it crumbled to the ground in a grotesque heap.

The gargoyle circled around for another strike, but the third warrior in Bismuth's group entered the fray; a slightly older man with curiously pink hair and a rosy complexion, which seemed to offset his rigid features. He jumped on the green-haired boy's back and propelled himself into the air, and before the gargoyle could even howl with alarm, its wings had been clipped and it crashed into the ground with an explosion of dust.

There were three more in Bismuth's entourage, each fighting a Bonewalker one-on-one. From their appearances, Saber could estimate that these women were also gems. The tallest of the three, with pink hair rivaling that of the man who had clipped the gargoyle's wings, launched her shield at an incoming gargoyle like a handaxe. The creature uttered a tragic screech as the shield hit it square between the eyes, the concussive impact forcing it to drop its scythe. In its last conscious act, the creature attempted a suicide-dive manuever, but the gem merely stepped out of the way as the gargoyle planted into the earth.

The most slender of the gems was pinned down by two bonewalkers, each pressing their might on each end of the gem's spear. Saber thought of calling attention to her predicament, but she quickly learned that this had played into the gem's advantage. The spear disappeared, and the momentum of the bonewalker's swords forced them to stumble forward. That was all the time needed for the strangest looking of the gems, a bespectacled gem with gauntlets the size of anvils covering her fists, to clothesline and behead the two creatures.

"Ah!" the slender gem cried as the headless torsos of the bonewalkers continued to amble toward them, but without a mind to guide them, they finally collapsed, their bones scattering in the soil.

Seeing the fall of their comrades, the remaining two bonewalkers gnashed their teeth, and the gargoyles followed as they ran for the cover of the Tower.

"Help me get Saber down," Bismuth said, indicating the pink-haired man. He nodded, and together they managed to uncoil Saber from her bonds, and her heart leapt into her chest as she collapsed on all fours. She could feel mana evacuating every orifice, even as her physical strength slowly returned to her.

"You're Alm," Saber gasped, causing the green-haired boy to turn to her with an incredulous look. "I am Celica's servant, assigned to her protection by Mila. We must rescue her, every second we waste…"

"Whoa, there," Bismuth said, steadying Saber's shoulders as she swayed on the spot.

Saber gently pushed Bismuth away, concentrating all of her remaining mana into her legs so that she could stand.

"It's true then, Gilgamesh has her?"

Saber nodded sadly at Alm, and his face contorted with rage.

He pounded his fist into the wall of one of the decrepit houses. The pink-haired man grunted impatiently from behind Saber.

"You will not face him. Gilgamesh is a servant, like me. His power far exceeds that of a human, or a gem for that matter," Saber said, indicating the three unfamiliar gems with a nod of the head.

"I'm Rose Quartz, by the way," the tallest of the trio said in a frilly tone, as if she were a child on a field trip. She introduced Pearl and Garnet, indicating the slender and bespectacled gems respectively, before nodding at Bismuth.

"We've already met," Bismuth said, a hint of regret in her voice. "Listen, Saber, I know I left you to do this on your own, but."

"It's alright, Bismuth," Saber said, placing a reassuring hand on Bismuth's shoulder. "Sometimes, we must look out for our own ilk. I'm glad you have found who you were looking for.

"Needless to say," Saber continued, "I am glad that you will be joining our assault."

Saber turned to the final member of the group, who had yet to introduce himself.

"I am Carocol," he said, with a curt nod. He left it at that. Saber smiled and tipped her head.

"I'm all for the introductions, but we need to discuss how to proceed," Alm said, with a hint of impatience. "You said Gilgamesh took Celica, Saber. How long ago was this?"

"I have traveled this turbulent country for a week, looking for her."

"Oh Gods," Alm said, shrinking slightly at these words. "It will be a miracle if she's still alive."

"My presence is all the proof you need to know that she still lives," Saber said. "My mana is connected directly to her life force, although I will admit my strength wanes with every hour."

Alm gasped in relief, though the sense of urgency remained in his voice.

"I must face him, soon!"

"As I said," Saber chided, "only another servant can challenge him. I have defeated him before."

"Wait," Bismuth interjected. "You knew Golgawhositt before all this?"

"Yes," Saber whispered. "In a previous conflict, we were on opposing sides. Like in this world, Gilgamesh was concentrated on establishing the reign of the Gods upon the mortal realm. My master and I...we faced him together, and prevailed."

Saber was thankful nobody asked who this master was, and even though she could remember the way he had pulled at her heartstrings, she could not even remember what he looked like.

"Then you can defeat him again," Garnet said. Saber smiled ruefully.

"There were unique circumstances that allowed me to defeat Gilgamesh then. Unfortunately, as powerful as your friend is, she doesn't meet the conditions of my previous master."

The sun disappeared again behind a mountainous storm cloud, intensifying the sense of pessimism among the group.

"And even then, my mana stores have already been drained tremendously. Celica will need to be at full strength for me to even rival Gilgamesh."

"You keep talking about how your strength depends on Celica's condition," Alm said. "If that is the case with servants, why hasn't Gilgamesh faded away? Berkut is dead."

"I think we both know the answer to that," Saber said, indicating Alm's hand. The prince quickly hid his hand within his doublet, but Saber had already studied the rapidly forming scars in his skin.

"That still doesn't answer my question," Alm persisted. "If Berkut is dead, and my seals haven't come in, how is he still tethered to our world?"

"Duma," Saber answered. "Likely, the contract Gilgamesh entered into doesn't chain him to a particular person, but to Duma himself."

"So are you saying that even if I can use my seals, Gilgamesh still might not obey my commands?"

Saber's expression darkened.

"I don't know. I'm the only one here who can hold their own against him, although I will need to regain my lost mana. Getting to Celica will likely mean having to go through him. That's the conundrum."

"We can hold him off," Rose said, Garnet and Pearl nodding in unison. "The worst he can do is poof us."

"I'm...sorry?"

Bismuth chuckled.

"When a gem is mortally injured, they don't die. Instead, they retreat into their gems to heal. Usually, this results in a big cloud of dust, hence the 'poof.'"

Saber nodded, although she cast a doubtful glance at them.

"So you can hold him off while either I, Alm, or Carocol secure Celica?"

"We struggled against him before, but with Bismuth, we can do it longer."

"That still leaves Berkut and the Terrors, however," Alm said. "One of us will have to use that dagger, Bismuth, to stand a chance against them."

"Alm, as one of the Heritors," Saber began, although she found her gaze flashing to Carocol as well, "you should be the one to wield the Golden Dagger. You and I can keep the demons at bay, for my sword is also quite useful against monsters. That would mean Carocol would recover Celica."

Saber gazed upon Carocol expectantly.

"I expect you are satisfied with your role?"

Carocol turned away, unable to hide the flicker of protest in his face.

"Fine," he said. "But you must understand...this man killed every one of my people."

"He killed Fernand and my father," Alm piped up. "This isn't easy for me either, Carocol."

"He has committed many atrocities, everywhere he has gone," Saber said. "But this isn't about petty revenge, for either of you. If Gilgamesh is not stopped, everyone that lives in this world is forfeit. We must think about the greater good."

"I understand," Alm said. Saber nodded and faced Carocol again.

"The greater good," Carocol muttered, staring at the Tower. "That was how my father had always felt too."

Garnet caught Saber's eye, gritting her teeth. Carocol breathed in deeply with his nostrils, closing his eyes as he began again.

"It was why he sent me to my death."

"What?!" Pearl exclaimed.

"In the vision Garnet showed me...my father admitted to sending me to him, so that he could protect the island from the influence of the Gods. But Gilgamesh turned on him, and, well…"

There was an uneasy silence, as everyone stared at Carocol uneasily.

"So you'll have to excuse me, Saber, when I tell you I'm not exactly comfortable with your choice of words."

Everyone faced Saber now, whose eyes were scrunched painfully shut. A single tear rolled down her cheek.

"I suppose I haven't been very honest, Bismuth. At the Mindful Mire, I didn't tell you what I saw."

"You didn't see anything," Bismuth replied.

"In a past life, I ruled over the greatest kingdom in the world. Under my leadership, I had united the many lands under one rule. But the cost of keeping it that way was heart wrenching. It even cost me...my son."

Carocol's expression softened.

"My son was meant to be my heir, but I was foretold of what would become of the kingdom I had united if he were to take the throne. How it would fragment, and the civil conflicts I had dedicated my life to thwarting would resume. I couldn't let that happen, even if it meant…"

"...killing him," Carocol said, finishing Saber's thought. The parallels between Saber and his father were frightening to him, although he had never seen his father show any emotion like this.

"The world is on the brink of destruction, and yet...Carocol, I can't bring myself to stand in your way. Even knowing...you wouldn't stand a chance against him."

"Don't underestimate him," Rose said, stepping in between them. "I was the one who saved his life when Gilgamesh attacked him. It would take a lot to bring him down."

Saber took Rose's advice with a smile.

"Perhaps I can be the one to rescue Saber, and you can…"

"No."

Carocol stepped into the center of the circle his allies had created.

"When I began this journey, it was only to complete my pilgrimage to Duma Tower, and complete my training. Every decision I made, I thought it was in my best interest. I saw how powerful the gems were, and I knew they would make the trip easier.

"But as time went on," he said, turning to Alm, "I became invested in their stories. Their desires. Alm's quest to save his friend. The Crystal Gems, and their need to reunite with Bismuth. Though I long to see Gilgamesh's head separated from his body for what he has done to me, to all of us...this story isn't mine alone."

Carocol narrowed his eyes in determination.

"I will be the one to rescue Celica. But Saber…When you get your strength back, you take him down."

Saber smiled and nodded, the yellow light of the emerging sun making her skin glisten.

"I, Artoria Pendragon, vow to destroy Gilgamesh!"

Alm stepped forward.

"I vow to defeat Berkut. That man will not use another member of my family in his twisted little game."

Bismuth strutted forward.

"I vow...wait, what was I gonna do again?"

"You're helping us hold off Gilgamesh," Rose said with a chuckle.

"Right. I, Bismuth, vow to...uh...be a good distraction."

Saber couldn't remember the last time she laughed so hard.


	31. Chapter 31: Princess Undead

Celica could not tell the difference between asleep and awake. She had grown numb to the hunger pangs that helped her tell the difference, just as she had become accustomed to the different odors of the Terrors who shoved stale food and wine in her mouth. Her life had become an exhausting pattern, one she could not even escape in her dreams. Time was an enigma, and for all she knew, it had been a full year since Gilgamesh had brought her here.

She was asleep when she was first unmasked, only waking when her binds were released and she collapsed on the floor, too dizzy from malnourishment to stand. It took her eyes the better part of two or three minutes to adjust to the light again, and even though all she could see was the dusty Tower floor, the sight of something other than darkness was welcoming.

"Your moment of greatness has arrived, Princess Anthiese," a familiar voice said, and Celica was pulled to her feet by the roots of her hair. Her energy was too depleted for her to scream in protest, like she would typically have done.

"Mmm," Gilgamesh moaned. "Your divinity remains strong, even on the brink of death. You will be the perfect morsel."

Gilgamesh's face swam in Celica's vision. Try as she might, she could not recall the proper incantation for her fire or seraph spells. And despite what Gilgamesh had said about her divinity, she couldn't feel a single trace of mana left.

"I have something I would like to show you, first, Princess."

Celica muttered something incomprehensible and feeble in protest, only making Gilgamesh smile gleefully.

"It concerns your friend, Alm."

Celica shook her head...that name sounded so familiar…

She felt herself being dragged along the floor, dust collecting in her cowl and in the folds of her skin. Finally, with another violent pull of her hair, Gilgamesh lifted her to her feet again, so that she was overlooking what appeared to be a massive pit. Even with her vision impaired, Celica could see the fragmented remains of a small village, along with scattered boulders and fragments of rock of a color unfamiliar to her, and impossible to describe.

In her delirium, Celica wondered if Gilgamesh had already enacted his ambition. But something else soon caught her eye, and in that moment she felt more awake than she had in days. It was merely a flash of green hair, but it was all she needed to know who she was looking at.

"Alm," she said with surprising vigor.

"Enjoy the sight of him while you can, meat doll, for before the day is done, he will be joining you in the valley of death."

"You won't...defeat him," Celica muttered, fatigue taking over again as she was pulled away from the window.

"For once, you're right my little Princess. I will not kill him."

Gilgamesh grabbed Celica by the throat, lifting her head so that their eyes met. This motion alone was enough to erode Celica's consciousness, but as her eyes closed for the final time, she heard him speak one more time, his words striking her like an icicle.

"You will."

It was a simple plan, though still a longshot. Alm kept his reservations to himself as he and the Crystal Deliverance plus Saber ascended the wall of the pit leading up to the Tower.

Saber had acquired an ancient map of the Tower from Halcyon, complete with blueprints of each of the rooms and chambers within it. Though much of the ink had faded over the centuries, they agreed it was better than going in blind.

"There is only one true entrance to the Tower," Saber explained, circling her finger around the arched opening at the bottom of the page. "There are no windows at that level, so we can't really sneak anybody in without climbing the side of the Tower. Not to mention, that would take too long, and Gilgamesh certainly will have some of his best sentries posted at each level."

Saber indicated the spire of the tower, the cutaway revealing a circular room the size of a ballroom, with an elevated podium and an idol of Duma. Even in ink, the appearance of Duma filled Alm with dread.

"When it comes time for Duma to awaken, Gilgamesh will be on this floor. This is the Chamber of Rites. In ancient times, sacrifices to Duma were placed upon the podium to be absorbed by him."

Alm grimaced, as he pictured Celica's corpse upon it.

"Likely, he is already there. There are two stairways that lead up, but only the right staircase leads directly to the Plinth Chamber within the spire, shown here. We will need to split up, with my party ascending the left staircase, and Alm's party the right. Then, we can meet up on the top floor, and assault the Chamber together."

"Got it," Pearl said, the other gems nodding in agreement.

"What's below the Tower?" Carocol muttered, indicating two rectangular structures beneath the entryway, built on top of one another.

"I was told the topmost of these structures is merely an idol chamber for Duma."

"Really? He needs two chambers?" Bismuth grumbled. "This Duma guy puts a bit too much stock in his luster, don't you think?"

"It's his Tower," Saber responded, a humorous lilt in her voice.

"What's the structure beneath that one?" Alm said.

"Halcyon didn't know. There's supposedly a hidden entrance within the idol chamber, but it's never been found. According to him, you have to be chosen to venture down there."

"Chosen?"

Saber nodded.

"The person needs to present proof, but even he doesn't know what that could be. Though I surmise it has something to do with the Heritors."

"So I could go down there?" Alm said.

"Perhaps, but our focus should be finding Gilgamesh and Celica."

"What if there is a weapon, or something we can use?" Alm asked, for he couldn't help but feel intrigued that he could venture into a part of the Tower nobody else in history had ever done.

"We don't have time. Before the day is done, Duma will have awakened. We don't even know how to get down there."

Alm sighed in assent, although he continued to rest his gaze upon this strange chamber as Saber continued.

"Assuming we also meet with Berkut in the Chamber, we stick with the plan we made earlier. Alm will face him, the Crystal Gems will distract Gilgamesh, and Carocol and I will free Celica."

Alm replayed this plan in his head over and over in the present as they climbed, until finally, they emerged only a stone's throw away from the most enigmatic structure in Valentia. The entrance was open, but the pervading darkness beyond it, along with the eerie images of Terrors and the undead carved into the arches, would scare away even the bravest explorer.

With the thought of being reunited with Celica stoking his bravery, Alm ventured inside first, followed closely by the Gems and Saber.

The darkness mysteriously cleared as they stepped into the foyer, as if a great, black sheet had been lifted. Terrors of nightmarish proportions glared down at them in statue form, and though it seemed to be a trick of the dusty light, Alm could swear their eyes were following him. The silence was complete, save for the echo of their footsteps.

The foyer opened up into a grand, circular hall. As Saber had described, two winding staircases, one to the right of them at the entrance and another on the other side of the hall, ascended slowly upward. They stepped into the center of the hall, where weak sunlight streamed in through the many smaller windows in the upper levels. At least eight of these levels were visible from his vantage point, but the blueprint had shown 12 total, not including the Plinth Chamber. Some of the railings had decayed with age, while other levels didn't even have railings.

"The serpent that curls up and dies, is the one who refuses to moult his skin."

Everyone recognized the voice, but a chill ran down their spines nonetheless. Their disbelief turned to belief, as the pointed face of Gilgamesh swam out of the shadows, until he was in the direct light of the many windows.

"I must say, you cling to your skin quite tightly for mere mortals. But it is time for nature to enact her destiny."

Saber moved in between the group and Gilgamesh, her invisible weapon concentrated towards the Hero King.

"I thought you would be preparing for your grand moment."

Gilgamesh grunted, and studied Saber lazily.

"You look like half the Servant I faced previously."

"Where is my master?"

"Ah," Gilgamesh said, holding up a finger as if he were addressing an impatient child. "Always in a rush, Saber. Even in the past, when your strength rivalled mine, you were never one for idle conversation."

Saber said nothing. Gilgamesh's smile faded, and he adopted a stentorian tone.

"I would urge you to listen well."

"The time for listening to you is over," Garnet said, summoning her gauntlets.

"That's right," Pearl chorused, drawing her spear. Rose summoned her shield and drew her sword, while Bismuth mutated her hands into crude-looking axes.

"You've never faced the full strength of the Crystal Gems, goldy," Bismuth said with a sneer. "We're gonna pound you like a piece of chalk, right gang?"

"Right!" the other three gems answered. Alm smiled at their determination, but Gilgamesh's cold laughter eviscerated this swift rush of euphoria.

"Chunks of soil like you belong under my boot. Consider yourself lucky, fools, for I have no interest in wasting any of my precious treasures on you."

Gilgamesh directed his attention to Alm. Any ordinary man would've wavered under the gaze of the Hero King, but Alm stared back determinedly.

"If you wish to see your bitch, you need only ask."

An anger Alm had never experienced flared up within him, but through sheer determination, he restrained himself from hurtling towards the Hero King like a mogall out of hell.

"Where is Celica?" Alm asked through gritted teeth. "Saber?"

Alm's anger evaporated, for Saber had cried out before keeling over, as if she were about to vomit. Her sword fell from her hand, as whatever ailed her forced her down on all fours.

"Saber, what's wrong?"

Another cackle from Gilgamesh echoed throughout the hollow Tower, as if ten Hero Kings were laughing all at once.

"What have you done to her?" Alm said, as Carocol rushed forward to place a comforting hand on the servant's neck.

"It's not what I've done. It's what _she's _done."

Gilgamesh stepped back, so that half of his body was obscured by the darkness, and beckoned to an agent only he could see. Something was slowly shambling its way towards them, but as it slowly came into view, only Bismuth could recognize that it was a witch. It was far more radiant than any of the witches encountered in the Lost Treescape, a bad sign that she was more powerful.

As the figure made its way into the light, however, Alm felt as if his soul had been ripped from his chest. Even in this afterlife state, Alm could recognize the flowing red locks of hair, the gentle features, the warm eyes...

"Celica!"

"Wh-what?" Pearl gasped. Bismuth placed a hand over her mouth in revulsion.

The apparition that had once been Celica stepped in front of Gilgamesh, raising its arms over its head in unison with Gilgamesh. He was in complete control.

"You...you foul demon!" Alm spat.

"Don't work yourself up, Heritor of Arcadia," Gilgamesh responded calmly. "If the girl was truly dead, would Saber not have disappeared?"

It was true, although she seemed to be in dire straits. Carocol glared at the Hero King.

"You blackheart," the Yasha growled.

"Call me what you wish. In the world I shall invoke, I will be a hero. But enough about me. You should know that it is Celica's donation that will make Duma's revival all that more."

"What do you mean?" Alm said, torn between exasperation and hatred.

"Must I explain everything, you insignificant little peasant? Celica is in this state because she offered herself to Duma. She is not the girl you knew anymore."

"You lie," Alm growled. Celica would never have willingly given herself up to Duma just to save herself. Would she? Only Gilgamesh knew, but his secrets were hidden like his treasures, and he would only release them if they could cause emotional pain. Right now, he was relishing the defeated stares of his enemies.

"I think it would be appropriate if the very person you came to save struck you down in the end. The tale of the Heritors will end as the tale of the Gods did centuries ago, with bloodshed!"

In response, Celica raised a trembling arm and made an odd motion with her fingers. Alm's instinct told him to raise his blade in defense, to plan for a counterattack, but his heart kept him rooted to the spot.

"A...alm…"

It was the witch who had spoken thus, and to Alm's surprise, Celica was clutching her spellcasting arm with her free hand, as if trying to stop herself.

"What's this?" Gilgamesh muttered, as if her hesitancy to obey was a mere blemish on his armor. "She still clings to her conscience, even now. How touching. Perhaps your reunion in the afterlife will have to wait.

"Then again," Gilgamesh said with a snap of his fingers. A flash of red light emitted from Celica's body, blinding everyone but Saber. "A Heritor does have their use."

When Alm could see again, he was surprised to see Saber only an inch away from his face, her face contorted in pain.

"Alm, look out!"

Alm felt a pair of hands push him out of the way. This was followed by the sound of steel meeting steel, and Alm turned over to see Saber and Rose's blades mingling with one another, trying to seal the advantage.

"What are you doing!?" Pearl screamed, as Saber swung her sword again, with such velocity that Rose was forced to block with her shield this time.

"I...can't...control myself. Celica...a command seal...get away from here!"

Pearl intercepted Saber as she attempted another killing blow on Alm. It only took a couple of parries, but Saber caught Pearl across the chin with a roundhouse kick, sending her spiralling into Bismuth's open arms.

"Now, you have the strength of two servants to contend with," Gilgamesh said. Saber's entire body shivered, the power of the command seal causing her vessels to tighten.

"As much as I would like to watch your destiny end at my hands, Saber was right. I have much work to do. Alm, you will be glad to know that I still have much use for Celica, for it is her soul that will allow Duma to materialize."

Gilgamesh nodded at the witch, who returned it in kind. Alm watched as she made her way for a door he hadn't seen before, and in the silence he could hear her slowly descending into what was certainly the idol chamber depicted on the ancient map.

"She will be safe below, at least until her soul is consumed. Until her usefulness is up, I cannot allow you to get near her. Therefore," Gilgamesh said, beckoning into the shadows once again. This time, two figures emerged. Alm recognized Berkut immediately, although he had abandoned his steed.

The second figure was another witch, with a radiance on par with that of Celica's, and though it took a few seconds longer, Alm would recognize this demon as well.

"That's...Rinea," Garnet whispered. The very girl who had come to their rescue in the desert what seemed like an eternity ago, now stood across from them, a tragic expression written on her face.

"These three will be more than enough to keep you occupied. As for me."

There was an eerie humming noise, like the low tone of a church bell, and a circle of blue light surrounded Gilgamesh's feet. The platform began to levitate, slowly carrying Gilgamesh away to the sanctity of the Plinth Chamber.

"I have a destiny to fulfill."

Gilgamesh laughed gaily as the platform slowly pulled him up.

"I'm going after him," Carocol said, and before anyone could stop him he was at the base of the staircase that would lead to the Chamber of Rites."

"Carocol," Alm said, snapping himself out of his worried stupor.

"You need to find Celica," Carocol said, stopping to face the boy whom he had quarreled with so many times before. This time, he would not back down. "Find Celica, and Saber will rejoin us, then she can join me upstairs."

Alm opened his mouth to protest, but his gaze trailed back to the doorway. He had no choice…

"Take this," Alm said, thrusting the holy dagger into the Yasha's outstretched hands. "If you encounter any demons, you'll have to face them alone."

"What about you?"

Alm drew the sword his grandfather had entrusted him at the beginning of their journey.

"Nothing is getting between me and Celica. I've come..._we've_ come too far to let that happen."

Carocol smiled and nodded, before disappearing up the stairs.

Berkut was slowly bearing down on Alm. He turned back to see that Rinea and Saber were creeping similarly towards the Crystal Gems. Bismuth was still trying to talk Saber down, but as much as Saber struggled to stop her own advance, she could not.

"I can't get through to her," Bismuth groaned.

"What do we do?" Pearl moaned, her voice shaking with the effort of holding back tears.

Alm opened his mouth again, this time to stir his friends into combat, but his voice was muted as a massive pink bubble suddenly surrounded him. Something pushed him in the direction of the door leading to the idol chamber, but Berkut pushed against it.

What followed was the most bizarre sensation Alm had ever experienced, as Rose and the remains of Berkut played a sort of rallying game with his prison. Even Rinea and Saber had stopped to watch this unique situation unfold. Finally, a combined push from the four gems proved too much for Berkut, and Alm watched as his cousin's body was pressed into the ground beneath him.

"Sorry," Alm muttered, but his breath misted the surface of the bubble, and he wasn't sure the message got through. As soon as the bubble hit the wall next to the door, it popped, and Alm only managed to get his hands out beneath him at the last second before he could faceplant.

"We'll take care of these four, go and find Celica," Garnet called to him. Alm prepared to protest, but a reassuring nod from Rose was all the direction Alm needed, and without wasting another second, he tore through the dark door and down the stairs where Celica would be waiting.


	32. Chapter 32: The Tower of Duma

Alm descended the stairs as quickly as his aching limbs would allow. He disregarded the lack of light, and the increasingly suffocating air, at the detriment of his lungs and sensory organs that had already been assailed during the morning's trek through the tunnel. But Alm had already forsaken so much just to get within a stone's throw of Celica...not even the risk of losing his own life would stop him now.

Above, Alm could hear the melody of weapons, the passionate war cries of the Crystal Gems as they fought alone against Gilgamesh's best lieutenants. A part of him longed to help them, and with Saber under Gilgamesh's control, they were impossibly outnumbered. It had been Rose's decision to send him along, he reminded himself, but the fact alone wasn't enough to curb the rising guilt in his chest.

Alm slowed, as the moisture on the surrounding wall began to glow with a familiar orange pallor. He squinted his eyes in the darkness to find the source, and could see the outline of his childhood friend, her form floating slightly above the stairs as she descended. Alm called out her name.

The apparition paused as Alm's voice echoed like cannon-fire off the narrow walls. Alm, feeling inspired from this reaction, ambled towards her.

"Celica," he repeated, more gently than before. His heart lifted as the spirit raised her head, and slowly turned to face him…

He managed to sink to the floor just in time as a fiery spell singed the crown of his hair.

"You don't have to do this," he said, raising a hand appeasingly from the grimy surface of the staircase. "Celica, it's me, Alm…"

The spirit's arm trembled, and like before, she used her free hand to restrain herself from casting another spell. With what appeared to be a divine effort, she managed to turn away and continue down the stairs quicker than before.

Alm pushed himself up and followed. Eerie shadows lunged at Alm from the moss-covered walls, springing to life as the orange light softly moved over them. As the spirit came into view again, she turned to the right and disappeared through the wall, and the orange ambience disappeared with her. Alm had only begun to wonder how she had done this when he crashed into a solid wall at almost full speed.

Sheepish embarrassment overrode his indomitable sense of purpose for a brief moment. He looked to the right, where the apparition had seemingly walked through a solid wall, only to realize that this was the landing to the idol chamber Saber had referenced in their earlier briefing. The room was lit by torchlight, and there was no need to squint here. A horrible stench invaded his nostrils and settled in his lungs like tar, and he coughed in an attempt to rid himself of it.

Covering his nose with the back of his arm, Alm ventured into the chamber. Like in the stairwell, the amber glow of torchlight motivated eerie shadows to follow him, although they were rendered insignificant by the idol of Duma, centered on a plinth on the other end of the chamber. Unlike most depictions of Duma, typically in his dragon form, this idol depicted him in human form. He embodied the same qualities Rudolf had in his younger days, with a brilliant beard that hung like bunches of grapes from his chin and a great shield in his outstretched hand. Whereas Rudolf's gaze was merely intimidating, however, Duma's struck terror in Alm's heart. He possessed the narrow pupils of a snake, and the rubies that had been plugged into the idol's eye sockets amplified his demonic appearance.

"Celica?" Alm asked quietly, scanning the chamber for any signs of the witch, but finding nothing. Soon, his uneasiness gave way to impatience again. He didn't have time to search an empty chamber; already, his mind was wandering back upstairs, to his friends.

Thinking of Saber reminded him of the second chamber below. Had Celica found her way down there? Alm crawled along the floor now, searching for any sign of a trapdoor.

His heart skipped as his hand slithered over something cool and smooth at the bottom step of the altar. Thinking it was an archaic doorknob, Alm gripped it tighter, only to jump back in revulsion when he saw what it was. It was the body of Berkut, his cousin. He was still wearing his favored brown armor, although the cloth interior was soaked red with blood. Where his forehead once jutted out impressively was now a big hole, so large it was a wonder his face hadn't completely caved in without bones to support it.

Alm turned away from this awful sight, only to be greeted by another; the dead body of Rinea. Her blue hair had fallen over her left eye, so that only her right was visible. With the delicacy of a drop of rain, Alm slowly pulled this eye shut, so that she could sleep once and for all.

Alm sat on the bottom step and closed his eyes, trying to think of an appropriate prayer. After a couple of fruitless minutes, he gave up and angrily stomped to the other end of the room. Another person close to him, murdered. His head pounded in frustration, that he was not the one going after Gilgamesh. He leaned against the wall, his hand sticking to whatever grimy substance covered it, trying to calm himself.

Instead, he whipped around and launched his sword at the idol of Duma, daring it to wake up and challenge him.

"Damn you!"

Alm pounded the wall with both fists, punching it over and over until his knuckles were raw. Each punch was accompanied by the painful image of someone close to him dying. Rudolf, then Rinea, then Berkut. But as he reached back to deliver one final blow, Celica's face appeared in his mind. He knew this to be a vision, that she was still somehow alive. This thought alone managed to tame him.

Alm looked once more into the Duma's eyes, then kneeled before him. Even with his eyes closed, he could feel the eyes probing his soul.

"Show me," he whispered. He had expected nothing to come from this, and for a moment, he was right. But as he turned away to continue his search, a searing pain shot through his scarred hand. He looked down to see the command seals had fully emerged, and were pulsating a bright red color. No sooner did this happen, when there was a low rumbling noise behind him, and Alm turned just in time to witness the idol slowly moving away from its resting place on its own accord.

When it finally came to a rest, nearly twenty feet away from its original position, Alm's hand ceased to glow, and the pain slowly receded. He slowly stepped forward, looking down at where the idol once sat to see that another staircase had been revealed. A loathsome gust of air slapped his face as he leaned over the opening, nearly knocking him on his feet.

Grabbing his sword off the floor, Alm took one final look at Duma's idol, the statue seemingly encouraging Alm to go on, he hurried down this new flight of stairs. The condition of this stairwell was even worse than the one that had led down into the idol chamber, as withered vines of ancient plants and uneven stone threatened to trip Alm up with every step he took. It took far less time to reach the end, however, and even though there was no torchlight on this floor, an unnerving green aura illuminated every surface. It was a shade of green he had never seen outside of paintings before, and he wasn't eager to see where it was coming from.

Alm kept his head low, as uneven archways with jagged bottoms and overgrowths of vine-like plants reached down. Another gust of wind rustled his hair, and he clutched the archway above him to keep from being launched back. There was a warm quality to this sudden tempest, as if someone were breathing only a few inches from his face. In a strange way, it was almost a pleasant sensation.

Finally, the narrow passageway opened into a chamber with similar dimensions to the idol chamber above, although the ceiling here stretched beyond view. There was an altar here as well, on the other end of the room. Instead of an idol, however, a shadow of immense proportions rested upon it.

And there, before this great, black mass, was the apparition, glowing like a ceremonial candle.

"Celica!"

The spirit whirled around in alarm, just as surprised to see Alm as Alm was to see her.

"Let me help you," Alm said. He slowly withdrew his sword, and set it upon the floor, in the hopes of putting his friend at ease. The instant he did this, a swarm of vines emerged from the pitted floor, fighting over the sword like hyenas before coordinating and swallowing it whole.

Alm attempted to seize his sword, but was forced to relinquish it as a fireball roared past him. He rolled again as a second fireball roared past him, this time with far more venom than before. It hit one of the arches in the passageway behind him, shattering it in an instant. The entire chamber shook in response, small fragments of rock hitting the back of Alm's neck, and his fears about Celica's condition were conjoined with his concern regarding the health of the chamber's architecture.

"Celica…" he started again, but the spirit seemed to have lost the ability to control itself. Again and again, the spirit attempted to purge him with fire, and more than once Alm received a glancing blow at her hands. Unable to get through to her, and without a weapon to defend himself, Alm voiced his uncertainty with an impatient groan.

"Take it," a feminine voice boomed from upon the altar. So loud was this voice that both Alm and the spirit covered their ears. "Take my blade, free her from the spell."

Alm finally looked in the direction of the altar, where the shadow he had seen upon entering the room was now fully visible, radiating the green light that permeated the room. He felt his jaw drop, at the sight of a full-fledged dragon blinking lazily at him. It possessed verdant green scales and short, jagged spikes along its spine and its tail. Upon the creature's short, chubby head was the blade the voice had referred to, sticking out of its nose.

"Take it," the voice repeated again. Alm quickly glanced at the spirit, who appeared to have finally regained her bearings. There would not be another chance. Alm ran in the direction of the dragon, ducking as a bolt of lightning sizzled overhead, and jumped onto the dragon's head. The dragon exhaled at this new pressure upon its snout, but didn't budge. Alm grabbed the hilt of the blade and pulled with all his might. This turned out to be unnecessary, for the blade came out as easily as a knife being withdrawn from butter, and Alm nearly tumbled onto his back from the recoil.

The apparition uttered a frustrated growl, and charged for Alm at full speed. Before Alm could even think, the blade moved on its own volition.

"NOOOO!"

The spirit cried out in agony, clutching her abdomen as she slowly sank to her knees. It didn't have the strength to pull the blade Alm had just wedged in its stomach; it could only whimper and beg for death. Slowly, the orange aura lifted from around the ghastly host, until all traces of the aura were gone. All that remained was Celica, and the blade that had slain her.


	33. Chapter 33: The Color Pink

Chapter 33:

As the events in the hidden chamber beneath the Tower were unfolding, the Crystal Gems were engaged in their most difficult encounter with Earth specimens yet. It was taking all of Sapphire's precognitive abilities to stay ahead of Rinea's magical attacks, Ruby growing frustrated with the lack of openings for a counterattack. Berkut, meanwhile, was having little trouble knocking Bismuth around.

Rose and Pearl, recognizing that Saber was a servant with the same caliber as Gilgamesh, had united their weapons against her. Never on Earth, or any gem colony, was there a spar so strange as this. It began when Saber praised a stiff kick to her gut from Pearl.

"You mean that?" Pearl said, her face turning Rose pink. Saber answered with another charge, but Rose, who had been incapacitated shortly before from a kick to the face, launched her shield just as Saber's sword reached Pearl. The projectile caught Saber flush in the side of the ribs, forcing the air from her lungs and downing her.

Pearl attempted a thrust to the head, but Saber did something no human or gem warrior had ever done; she _caught_ the end of the spear with her free hand, and used the momentum to launch Pearl into one of the demonic statues near the entrance.

"Good one," Rose said, her sword meeting Saber's invisible weapon. The resulting explosion of energy from the meeting of these two, legendary blades caused their hair to stand on end. Rose had left an opening, but Saber resisted the urge to exploit it. She had successfully resisted the command seal, for now.

Rose and Saber's duel continued, both trading compliments and parries. Pearl was eventually strong enough to rejoin the fray, but Saber was having little trouble holding her back. Saber countered a mid-riff thrust from Pearl with a sweeping uppercut swing of her blade, Pearl gracefully cartwheeling over the strike.

"Gilgamesh was ready," Saber said.

"Maybe, but Carocol can hold his own until we can figure something else out," Rose said, using her shield to stave off a flurry of strikes. "I...know...he can."

On the floor above this fray, Carocol learned where Gilgamesh's army of Terrors had been hiding. There was the all-too familiar screech of gargoyles from outside. The instant after Carocol had drawn his own blade, so that he was wielding both the Golden Dagger and his own weapon, two creatures crawled through the nearest window and were upon him.

The first one managed to swing its scythe, but Carocol ducked under the blow and rolled under the demon's suspended body. The second gargoyle didn't have the chance to even lift his weapon, as Carocol pushed off the ground and caught the demon flush with both feet. It whimpered like an injured dog as it crashed into the curved wall, dropping its scythe from its outstretched talons.

Vile breath caressed the back of his neck, and Carocol instinctually turned on the spot and swung vertically. The strike was enough to disarm the gargoyle, and though it tried to fall back, it wasn't quick enough. Carocol took the opportunity to pierce the Terror's heart with the holy dagger, dissolving it in heap of white flames before any noise could escape its putrid gullet.

Carocol turned around, prepared to kill the second of his assailants, but a familiar hum forced him to jump behind a pillar. A sword with the width of a rapier and the hilt of a katana was deflected off the other side of the pillar with a loud _clang, _and went soaring out the window where the gargoyles had entered.

"C'mon, c'mon!" Gilgamesh's voice taunted. Carocol peered out from behind the pillar to see Gilgamesh's platform floating parallel to the floor above. "You'll have to be faster than that, island scum."

Carocol located the staircase leading up, but thought better of pursuing it. Instead, his gaze wandered back to the pillar, and he looked up to see that the cylindrical structure jutted out beyond the railing of the next floor. Holstering his blade and clutching the Golden Dagger with his teeth, Carocol wrapped his arms and legs around the pillar like a pink orangutang, climbing his way up.

He glistened to the right as he climbed, until the only platform beneath him was the ground floor twenty or so feet below, where the Gems were still doing battle. At one point, Garnet stopped to watch Carocol pull himself up, before her attention was again grabbed by a renegade bolt of lightning that narrowly missed her.

"You're a bold mongrel, but a foolish one," Gilgamesh said, followed by a prolonged whistle. A chorus of wingbeats shook the sides of the tower, so much so that the sounds of battle below were dwarfed. Two swarms of gargoyles flew into the Tower from both sides, their wings flapping clumsily as they ascended to Carocol's height.

Concentrating all of his strength into his core and hindleg muscles, Carocol equipped both of his weapons once again, swinging at the gargoyles that came too close. Without the ability to pivot or strike, however, he was completely at their mercy. One managed to draw blood upon his back, another landing on his back and attempting to pin his arms before catchin a back elbow to the snout.

Meanwhile, Carocol caught a glance of Gilgamesh, who was already beginning to rise out of sight. Another swarm of gargoyles entered the Tower, although these demons either perched upon the railings or clung to the four pillars around the level where they entered, their tongues lolling at the sight of him.

Carocol kicked off his perch and reached for the gargoyle that had scratched him, until he was dangling in the air from its talons. He winced as the creature sunk its claws into his wrists, but tightened his grip. With his arms now compromised, Carocol resorted to kicking to keep the gargoyles at bay.

His stunt, however, interested the third wave of patient gargoyles. A couple of them descended from their perches to provide reinforcement, but Carocol saw an opening.

Relying on his core strength once again, Carocol swing forward and out of the grip of the gargoyle. Gravity pulled him down initially, but he landed on the gargoyle with the meatiest head of the bunch. The instant Carocol made impact, he pushed himself off with as much power and velocity as he could manage. The thick-headed gargoyle screeched as it fell, while the other gargoyles could only watch as Carocol bounded upwards with the velocity of a cannonball, and wrapped his non-dominant hand around Gilgamesh's platform.

The King of Heroes looked over the edge, and Carocol was pleased to see a bewildered look on his face. The toe of Gilgamesh's boot crashed down upon Carocol's fingers, knocking them loose, but not before Carocol extended his dominant arm over the edge of the platform.

"Insolent pest," Gilgamesh spat, as a small axe reminiscent of a tomahawk appeared over his shoulder. "If you will not relinquish your hold, I will dismember your fingers one by one and feed them to Duma."

Carocol had little time to consider his options. He had the speed to clamber onto the platform before Gilgamesh could carry out his attack, though facing the servant in close quarters was bound to be a bad idea. But as he peered over his shoulder, he recognized the greater peril waiting for him below. The gargoyles he had trounced before were clinging to the pillars and railings below, preening their wings and preparing to fly again. If they did not intercept and tear him apart, he would hit the ground floor at full force.

Gilgamesh grinned savagely and lowered his axe, and Carocol made his choice. He released just as the blade of the axe was about to make contact. He closed his eyes, preparing to be intercepted by vengeful gargoyles or crash into the tower base.

If this was falling, however, it certainly didn't feel like it. The sense of peril was overwhelming, but the air was still.

Carocol opened his eyes, surprised to see that he hadn't fallen a single inch from his original altitude. The realization of what was happening came to him before he could even process if it was possible; he was _floating._

Leaning forward carried him forward slightly, while leaning back moved him into his original position. Unfortunately, his flying lesson was cut short by an uproar from the angry gargoyles, who impatiently took off to meet him. Carocol, ever the innovator when it came to combat, leaned back and steeled himself for the coming dogfight.

He soared over to one of the pillars, circled it like a moon would orbit a planet, and met his first gargoyle with a kick to the creature's ribs. There was a sickening _crunch _as the demon crashed into the opposite pillar, followed by a pitiful whinny as it breathed its last.

The next two gargoyles to try their luck were quickly dispatched as Carocol's holy dagger made contact with them, though Carocol was forced to endure the putrid odor of their decaying flesh. The remainder of the swarm, nonplussed by the ease their companions were dispatched, nevertheless continued their assault with a renewed sense of unity. Six of the creatures surrounded Carocol, cutting off his access to the surrounding floor.

Carocol was already beginning to doubt his ability to stay airborne for an extended period, and the anxiety this produced had no doubt enticed the pursuing gargoyles. So far, flying had felt as natural as walking, and no additional fatigue was to be felt.

The gargoyle behind Carocol uttered a blood-curdling screech, and his five comrades answered the command by extending the sharp ends of their scythes forward like battering rams. Carocol closed his eyes, relying once again on instinct to escape. The instant Carocol felt a sharp, cold sensation move across his back, he turned around and took a broad cut with his own blade. He felt the momentum of his swing reduced as the blade met flesh and bone, and Carocol opened his eyes for a split second to see that he had cut the lead gargoyle clean in half, a fountain of lime-green blood showering upon the others.

The second and third gargoyle's attacks missed their mark on account of this strike. He grabbed both of their weapons as if he were dragging a pushcart, and yanked them with tremendous velocity. The gargoyles screeched in alarm as their weapons fell all the way down to the Tower base, and Carocol caught both creatures with elbows to the snout.

The remaining gargoyles managed to meet their mark, one of them even piercing Carocol's shoulder blade, but the pain from these blows was minimal. Opening his eyes, Carocol thrust the holy dagger into the gargoyle directly in front of him. He did not pause to watch the creature's incineration, instead swinging his personal blade and beheading the gargoyle who had pierced his shoulder blade. The final gargoyle reared back to strike again, but Carocol parried the blow and disarmed the creature. It followed the descent of its scythe until it was beyond view, and before it could meet Carocol's eyes, its head had already been severed and was similarly falling to the base.

Carocol adjusted his position in the air, so that he was staring the remaining gargoyles down, pulling the errant scythe from his shoulder blade and chucking it away for dramatic effect. The liuetentant gargoyles merely narrowed their eyes at him, while any charging gargoyles halted their ascent after witnessing the death brought on by the floating, pink man.

With the gargoyles in a holding pattern, Carocol studied the cuts and gashes the assault had left him, but could find no evidence of it having happened. Even the pain had disappeared, although he was still weary from being in the air so long. He slowly floated over to the nearest balcony and hung off the railing with all fours like an insect. The pressure of fighting gravity lessened greatly, but as his breathing slowly regulated, there was a chest-rattling _phoom, _and Carocol looked up to see that the bottom of Gilgamesh's platform had stopped moving another five stories up.

Carocol knew the instant he appeared over the abyss, the gargoyles would be more confident to resume their assault. Instead of risking more encounters, he ascended over the railing and found the stairs that would lead up. Though he wasn't exactly floating like he had been before, there was an extra spring in Carocol's step that was allowing him to ascend faster.

The integrity of the Tower only seemed to decrease with each succeeding floor. The railings were barely railings anymore. Up here, they consisted of uneven, disjointed rocks. Fissures and fragments of building stone littered the floor like confetti, occasionally tripping him up.

Finally, Carocol reached the stairs that would take him to the top of the platform, but was surprised as he confronted a door made of some unknown, high-density material that didn't seem natural in this decrepit part of the tower. He wrapped his hand around the bronze handle and pulled with all his strength, though the door opened rather easily on its own, and Carocol stepped into the room easily.

Alm didn't know how long he had been sitting, staring at Celica's impaled body. For years, he had dreamed of this moment; of seeing her pale skin, her fiery orange hair, in person again. Never did he think it would be like this.

The anguish of his father's death was nothing compared to the anguish he felt now, as he watched the color drain from her skin, her gaze slowly becoming more distant until it resembled Rinea's corpse on the floor above. Alm jumped down from the sleeping dragon's head, wrapped his hands around the hilt of the enigmatic sword, and attempted to pull it from Celica's torso. It had come out easily before, but now, it felt as if hundreds of hands were pulling on the other side.

He pulled until his lungs were fit to collapse and his teeth ached from clamping them together, until finally he stopped and gasped for air, sobbing intermittently. He couldn't bear to look at the peaceful corpse before him.

He could hear Gilgamesh's gleeful laughter, ringing in his ears like the call of a banshee, but he was too exhausted to feel anger. As soon as his breathing was evened out, he dropped to the ground beside her, stroking her face and hair hopelessly with the very hands that had slain her. The sword had moved on its own, but certainly the bards would not sing of that. He had done this, and there was no excuse.

"Uh…"

It was all Alm's trembling lips could utter, the salty taste of his own tears filling the corners of his mouth. Somewhere, beyond this horrible scene, Alm's friends were still fighting. The world was still on the brink of destruction. The bastard who had wrought the destruction of so many lives was at large. But none of this mattered now. The one person who had made it all worth it was gone now.

Alm's sobbing filled the hollow chamber, and his sadness was so palpable, so consuming, that he didn't notice the tonal shift in the cavern from murky teal to a bright, lively chartreuse. Soon, however, the light was such that Alm could not ignore it, and the subsequent search for its source led him to turn around. A woman was standing upon the nose of the dragon, where the sword had been.

The first thing Alm noticed were the woman's ears, pointed like the whiskers of a catfish. Though there was a certain benevolence to her presentation, from the grass-green shawl that clothed her to her mild expression, there was a haughtiness in her eyes that beguiled an intelligence far greater than man. She floated over to Alm, holding out a pale hand for him to take. He reluctantly did so, and she pulled him to his feet with surprising strength from someone so small.

"I am Mila," she said. The yawn that followed this statement was not befitting of a goddess, although this wasn't the only reason Alm didn't believe her at first. It was hard to believe this short, bleary-eyed girl could truly be Mila. "Who wakes me?"

"My name is Alm. And please forgive me...but are you really Mila?"

The girl cocked her head to the side and blinked a couple of times, stifling another yawn.

"Yes. Ah, I've been sleeping for millenia…"

"You've been sleeping?" Alm said. "But...you're supposed to be dead!"

"What is death, but a long nap and endless dreams," Mila breathed. She rubbed her eyes and studied Alm, from his green hair down to his grandfather's boots. "But if I'm awake, then I must be in the presence of one of the Heritors of Arcadia?"

Alm's grief, which had been dammed by this momentary distraction, flowed freely again.

"Two, actually."

Mila blinked again. She looked over Alm's shoulder at the red-haired girl behind him, and recognized the sword stuck in her abdomen.

"I see. I take it the sword is your doing as well?"

Alm couldn't bring himself to confirm this. Thankfully, Mila registered this silence as an answer.

"Well, from the looks of it, she's been on a long journey. It's a well deserved nap, if you ask me."

"She's dead!" Alm screamed in Mila's face, flaring up for the first time. "Do you understand?! You told me to pick up the sword, so I did! I couldn't control it, I couldn't stop it...I…"

It was as if a valve in the back of Alm's head had burst, and tears were flowing so freely now it would take a miracle to stop them.

"She's not dead you know," Mila said, studying the back of her hand disinterestedly.

"How do you figure?" Alm croaked. His throat ached as he spoke. "I can't pull the sword."

"I don't see any blood. Don't mortals bleed when they die? That's what makes you-" she waved her hand nonchalantly - "mortal, right?"

Mila returned Alm's indignant stare with one of her own.

"Don't look at me like that! It's not my fault you don't know the scriptures."

Alm shook his head, resting his face in his hands in an attempt to stem the tears.

"I can't pull the sword," he repeated.

"You just need a little help is all," Mila said, floating over to Celica's body. She wrapped her hands around the hilt of the blade with the delicacy of a sculptor, and indicated for Alm to do the same. Alm had his doubts. If he couldn't pull the sword with his full strength, how much could this little girl possibly add to the equation? He followed her lead nevertheless.

Though his fatigue from earlier attempts, combined with his grief, greatly hampered his strength, he gritted his teeth and pulled as hard as he could. In contrast, he noticed that Mila did not seem to be pulling at all. Her expression was as dreamy and placed as before.

The sword finally emerged, and it happened so fast that Alm fell on his back, and slowly tumbled down the stairs leading up to the altar.

"See? That was easy, wasn't it?"

Alm winced as he rolled onto his back, where the lower half of his spine had made particularly hard contact with the bottom stair. He never relinquished his grip on the sword, however, and leaned over to get a better look at it. Even though it had clearly pierced through Celica's torso, not a single drop of blood had dirtied the blade itself. The hilt of the sword, which he hadn't noticed before in his grief, was quite unusual. There was an open gap where the blade and the hilt met, in the shape of a half closed eye, and words were scrawled in an ancient language in the space around it.

"Falchion," Mila said. "That's what the text says, if you're wondering. It's the name of the blade."

Alm nodded, using his new weapon to pulled himself to his feet.

"Don't worry about getting it dirty, it's just a one of a kind weapon, that's all," Mila said with a hint of sarcasm. Alm thought of a retort, but two thin snakes of green light emanated from her hands. He watched as they slowly encapsulated Celica's body like a cocoon, lifting her into the air.

A beautiful soprano filled the cavern, and though the words of this number were impossible to make out, he felt strangely at peace. It took him a moment to realize Mila was the source of the voice, her eyes closed as she softly sang the words of the Gods to her audience of two.

Alm watched as Celica's body slowly rotated in the air, the light around her growing stronger with every syllable. That was when her eyes opened, and the heaviness in Alm's chest that he had endured for many days suddenly evaporated. At first, her irises were dull like those of a corpse, but soon the light returned to them. Mila was smiling now, as her psalm reached its crescendo. Celica regained the use of her arms and legs, and began to take in her surroundings.

The eyes of the Heritors met for the first time. Even Mila, with her eyes closed, could feel the harmony that existed between the two, a force more powerful than anything she or Duma could ever shatter. She hummed the final notes, and the light surrounding Celica receded and released her gently to the ground.

Alm and Celica looked deeply into the other's eyes. They were silent, unsure of what to say. It was Celica who took the first step in Alm's direction. Alm advanced towards Celica one pace.

Finally, the two rushed into the other's arms, uniting in a bundle of laughter, tears, and everything in between. Mila watched as they stammered about how they didn't know what to say, how they had missed each other, and dreamed of each other. But as their lips magnetically moved together, she looked away sheepishly, and the chamber was silent again.

Rose and Pearl knew as little about servants as the two servants, Saber and Gilgamesh, knew about them. So when Saber, who had pinned down Pearl and lifted her blade for the finished blow, suddenly dropped her sword and shrieked with agony, before collapsing on the cold floor of the Tower, Pearl and Rose could only exchange uncertain glances.

"It's...Celica…" Saber muttered as Rose asked her what was wrong over and over again. Her insides felt like tar, and her limbs were blocks of cinder, pinning her to the ground. She could barely turn around to face Rose.

Rose ducked as an errant fire spell from Garnet and Rinea's battle soared overhead, the orange light briefly illuminating her worried expression.

"Hold on, I'll save you like I did with Carocol, just give me a minute…"

"Can't...save me...find...Alm."

Another shriek echoed around the Tower, and only Pearl turned to see that Berkut had

caught Bismuth in the stomach with the blunt end of his sword. Meanwhile, streams of electricity had coiled Garnet's arms and chest, and had pinned her to the ground similarly to Saber.

"Rose, I might need a hand here…"

"No, we can't let Saber die!"

"Rose!"

But Rose would not relinquish her human friend, even as a bolt of lightning from Rinea skewered her torso like a pencil through paper. She was vaguely aware of someone screaming her name, as if it were the most precious thing in the Universe, before retreating unwillingly into her gem.

Alm and Celica had become blissfully aware of their dismal surroundings, and the contrasting presence of Mila, obsessed only with each other. The goddess was in no hurry to interrupt this moment between the two heroes. For generations, their prophecy as saviors of the world had been sealed; they could certainly be lovesick teenagers for two minutes. They talked about nothing in particular, simply repeating how blessed they were to be together before Alm would lean in for another kiss, Celica blushing but happily returning the embrace.

Eventually, however, the gravity of what had yet to be done set in, and their attention was diverted to a smiling Mila. Celica felt the closest thing to starstruck she would ever feel, immediately recognizing her as the very woman she had read, studied, eaten, breathed, and lived in the image of since birth. Mila knew Celica to possess a sturdy character, so it was amusing to see her struggle to form an appropriate greeting.

"Nice to meet you too," Mila said with a smile, and Celica looked relieved, and yet somewhat disappointed, that she did not have to speak.

"Sorry you had to, uh, see that," Alm muttered, avoiding Mila's constellar gaze.

"Nonsense," Mila responded, clasping her hands together in front of her chest as in prayer. "It appears your love is already making its mark."

Alm wasn't sure what she meant by this, but a gasp from Celica caught his attention. Small, pink flowers were now poking out of the noose-like vines hanging from the ceiling. The darkness and sickly green that had found sanctuary in that sinister hanging garden receded, as new flowers emerged and the existing flowers blossomed into hand-sized heads of pink, lavender, and white.

The vines that had lashed out at Alm earlier were in full bloom as well. The path reminded Celica of the many weddings she had helped in her younger days at the priory, and the flowery paths that led to storybook altars. The chamber had become completely visible, beneath a thin film of pink.

"It has been centuries since this chamber was in bloom like this," Mila said in a dreamy voice. "Duma had built it for me when we first arrived in Valentia all those eons ago, but after the war, I thought it would never be the same. You two represent the importance of being mortal; you possess something most Gods would only dream of."

"Wh-what's that?" Celica asked nervously, and she had to repress the urge to flinch as Mila concentrated on her for the first time.

"True love. When you are immortal, some of the things mortals may cherish become far less important. Where I come from, there are no winters to kill the innocent flower or the blooming crop. There is no death, to rob us of the ones we love. Flowers and love are so beautiful to the mortal, simply because they are not permanent. Your ability to lead short lives is not your greatest weakness, but your greatest strength."

Mila looked back at the dragon she had emerged from, which was now fully visible in all of its macabre glory. Alm hadn't seen the areas of the dragon's body where the flesh had dissolved before, leaving gaping holes of blackened tissue and yellowed bones.

"Though we fought, Duma and I both agreed that humanity had a right to exist. That even though humanity is imperfect, these imperfections provided the world with its signature beauty. Unfortunately, my awakening suggests that his opinion has changed."

Alm and Celica nodded in unison.

"Indeed," she said, suddenly looking very uncomfortable. "Something is poisoning the roots of this great tower, even in your presence. I've never felt anything like it before...it is warping Duma's sense of morality, and attacking his physical form. I can feel him twitching in his slumber, his staggered breathing against my scales…"

Alm thought of the pit outside, and whatever catastrophic force that could've caused it, but Mila changed the subject before he could bring it up.

"You two fight not just for the right for humanity to exist, but to exist on its own, without divine hands. Duma has been far too harsh on his men, but that does mean I am above criticism. I have spoiled my subjects, and since my ability to provide your crops has diminished, they struggle to feed themselves. Humanity can adapt to life without the Gods, but to get there, we must start somewhere first."

Mila nodded at the sword in Alm's hand, which he only half-heartedly held out in front of him, fearing he might lose control of it again.

"You needn't worry," Mila said with a giggle. "Falchion is now under your complete jurisdiction. That sword encapsulates all of humanity's strength. It is the only sword a mortal can wield that could bring a God to their knees. Treat it carefully, and use only in your battle against the servant of Lord Duma."

Alm felt a little bit more pride in this new sword, although he was still nervous to move it around too much.

"There is a second such sword, the Parallel Falchion, forged by Duma's followers to resemble a mere dagger, only for its true form to emerge when the original sword is summoned."

"I don't remember that in any of the texts," Celica said, feeling around her waist for her precious dagger. Celica clasped her hand over her mouth, her face burning she realized who she was questioning.

"It's fine dear," Mila said in a convincing voice. "Needless to say, I don't know where that dagger ended up."

"I had it," Celica said, frustrated as her search for the small sword proved to be fruitless. "Where...did Gilgamesh?"

Celica's features paled in a heartbeat, but Mila merely laughed and closed her eyes.

"If I close my eyes, I can follow its progress…"

The Goddess closed her eyes, leaving Alm and Celica to wait in a state of flux between anticipation and awkwardness. Alm took the chance to gaze around the chamber again, which had become even more colorful in the past couple of minutes. His heart nearly jumped out of his chest when Mila gasped loudly.

"What, where is it?" Celica asked, terror creeping into her eyes.

Mila opened her eyes slowly, staring off in the opposite direction.

"So, there is a third…"


	34. Chapter 34: The Hand of Power

"I suppose I should've expected that you would not make this easy," Gilgamesh said, as Carocol stepped into the Chamber of Rites. Gilgamesh's radiant armor absorbed the light streaming in from the rows of transom windows surrounding them.

Behind Gilgamesh was an elaborate plinth, pinned down by shafted columns, with capitals in the shape of the dragon Duma. The steps grew narrow with each level, until they reached a marble table that resembled a large spool. There was already a strange glow emanating from the top of this table, and Carocol could see that the symbols etched upon its surface were the source.

"You are too late," Gilgamesh said. "The great dragon, awakened prematurely by a visitor from heaven-" Gilgamesh said, his eyes briefly flickering in the direction of the pit so far below, "-will rise today, and destroy this pitiful sphere once and for all."

Carocol drew both of his weapons in response, wielding the shorter dagger in his non-dominant hand. Gilgamesh's arms remained folded, unyielding. Like so many other things, the battlefield belonged to him, and he would dictate the pace of this battle.

"This is a welcome change. And here I thought you would stand like a scarecrow again, letting my treasures beat the straw out of you."

"I know what you did," Carocol said. "Garnet showed me."

"So," Gilgamesh said, letting his arms fall to his sides. "You would renege on your tradition of neutrality simply for revenge?"

"This has nothing to do with revenge. I've seen firsthand what happens when you stand aside and let fate run its course. This entire planet, and so many countless people with their own creeds and lives, many different from mine, would be destroyed if I did nothing."

"Such a saccharine sense of morality," Gilgamesh snarled, his eyes flashing venomously. "It is the human desire for conflict that has ruined your species. Even if you were to stop me, there would be another war someday, one that would threaten the fabric of this world just as much as I am now. Humans are the flawed creation of the Gods, and I have been sent here to wipe them out!"

Carocol stared long and hard into Gilgamesh's eyes, which held firm. He would never change the mind of a half-God through rhetoric, that much was clear.

"Do you know why I wanted to kill you?"

Carocol narrowed his eyes; he would not give Gilgamesh the satisfaction of hearing him say no.

"In both Mila's and Duma's account of that ancient war, it is mentioned that two Heritors, direct descendents who embodied their respective virtues, would unite and banish the Gods from this planet, should they attempt to re-establish their rule. However, there is another account of that war and the future of this continent; that of their mother, Naga."

Gilgamesh meandered towards one of the windows overlooking the pit.

"There would be a third Heritor, born with the ideals of both Duma and Mila, of war and peace. I knew such a person would not exist on the continent, where the ideals of the people are so greatly divided. So I looked elsewhere...until I came across your island. I hid myself well, listening to the conversations of your soulless neighbors and cousins for any hint of the Third Heritor. Naturally, everyone there talked about you. About your accomplishments, and the pride your father had in you.

"Of course, he still placed his beliefs above his people, even his own son. And so, when confronted by someone with divine blood as pure as myself, he naturally assented to send you to me."

Gilgamesh's cold stare fell upon Carocol once more.

"Our meeting was not by chance, and perhaps I would've finished you that day, had she not interrupted."

"Rose," he muttered, glancing down at the pink skin upon his arm.

"Perhaps that's how she prefers to be known, but I know something about her that not even your pitiful rock friends do."

Gilgamesh moved back to the center of the room.

"Nothing evades the eyes of the Gods, not even visitors to this planet. The society to which 'Rose' belongs is ruled by four beings, far too many in my mind, but I digress. Pink Diamond is one of them. Is that color not conspiratorial to you?"

Carocol felt his confidence beginning to slacken, and he was forced to look away from the King of Heroes.

"I don't believe you. Rose was the one who destroyed Pink Diamond."

"Believe what you wish," Gilgamesh snarled. "Rose could not have destroyed Pink Diamond, because Rose _is _Pink Diamond. I have seen it firsthand, when she attempted to save you from me."

Carocol couldn't believe what he was hearing. Rose had known they would meet up?

"Perhaps it was the pebble you refer to as 'Garnet' who tipped her off. That much, I do not know, but had she not interfered, killing you would've been an easy feat. Those pitiful Gems and their internal affairs have meddled in mine for the last time, and once this planet has been extinguished, I will bring the full fury of the Gods upon their world next."

"You still haven't told me why you wanted to kill me," Carocol said, feeling his grip on his two swords lessening. Gilgamesh's eyes twitched impatiently, and he was visibly restraining himself from insulting the Yasha again.

"Is it not obvious? You are the third Heritor."

Gilgamesh spat these words at Carocol, as if expecting them to cause as much trauma as a blow from one of his treasures. Carocol wasn't shocked, as much as he was invalidated. He had been reassured that he had traveled with Alm thus far on his own volition, and not because he was on the ends of the strings of destiny.

But deeper down, the revelation was comforting in a strange way he couldn't fathom.

"You were prepared for this very moment," Carocol muttered. A savage satisfaction lingered in Gilgamesh's expression. "But then again, so was I…"

Color flooded into Gilgamesh's face, and he bared his teeth like an impatient attack dog.

"Perhaps it is destiny that led me here. But I very well could've come alone. Instead, I met the gems, and Alm, and I learned from them the very values I need to defeat you."

"If the stakes were not so high, I would not even dare tarnish my treasures by launching them at you," Gilgamesh growled. "You claim that morality alone will be enough to stop me? What 'values' could rival the power of a half-god, fool?"

"Love and companionship," Carocol said without hesitation.

Gilgamesh closed his eyes and leaned forward, his chest heaving with repressed laughter before it erupted from his mouth at full strength.

"You mean to insult me, mongrel. Nothing so insignificant could possibly lay a dent in my armor!"

"We'll see."

Anger contorted Gilgamesh's features again.

"You dare…"

"You could never understand love," Carocol interrupted, a dangerous action in the presence of the King of Heroes. "Where you come from, you don't need to. Everything is permanent, from the growing seasons to the chance to absorb the simple pleasures. That's the strength of being a God. The strength in being human is understanding that our time is limited, and making the most of it. Even I, who grew up believing in nothing, gravitated towards love when confronted by it.

"Yes, it can make us violent," he said, remembering the bloody rampage Alm had gone on. "We can learn, and we can grow. That's what humans do. But not you. You could never understand the need to be better, because in the eyes of the Gods, you're perfect. Perfect and complacent."

"I've heard enough from you!" Never had Gilgamesh's features been so tarnished with rage, nostrils flaring, eyes wide open, veins punching at the surface of his skin. Two portals of honey-like gold swirled into existence, and two unblemished swords slowly emerged from their vault, aimed at Carocol's heart. "You might think you are invincible thanks to that she-beast, but we'll see just how strong you are after I've carved every inch of flesh from your body!"

Normally, Carocol would've welcomed the chance for a fight, but he kept his blades grounded. He had more to say; it was a matter of how to say it. The fortunes had reversed, and now Gilgamesh was the one who longed for conflict.

"You're only a half-God. Maybe you can still grow..."

Carocol jumped out of the way as the leftmost of Gilgamesh's blades made a beeline for his chest. It pinged itself into the wall behind him.

"I have renounced my humanity to join the divine! I have conquered death! No feeble emotion such as 'love' or 'friendship' could ever do the same."

The second sword in Gilgamesh's employ began to tremble like the cork of an excited bottle of wine, but just as the Yasha prepared to parry, Gilgamesh looked in the direction of the window overseeing the pit again.

Now, he was beginning to hear it too; an alien _whirr _gradually growing in pitch. All of a sudden, the sky had turned an all-encompassing yellow color, and Carocol followed Gilgamesh's gaze just in time to see the dramatic arrival of a monolithic yellow hand. It punched a hole through the overcast sky, quite literally, and though the size of the windows of the pinnacle chamber abridged a full view of this new arrival, there was no mistaking its sheer size. It was bearing down on the Tower as if to pluck it like a weed, and Carocol could only watch as four familiar shapes from the base of the Tower were suddenly dragged into the air and towards the hand's open palm.

Rose knew Yellow was coming, even before the light of her ship flooded into the dark Tower base. In her early days, when she was still the object of affection of the other three Diamonds, she discovered that she could read the minds of her family when she closed their eyes, provided they were nearby. She could see them coming from down the hall, could feel their elation when she would be found combing her hair like a good little Diamond, their exasperation when she was caught playing with an alien life form.

The sensation returned while Rose was focusing her healing energy on Saber, who was still trembling and in immense pain from what, Rose nor Pearl had any clue. The instant her eyes had closed, she was confronted with the image of hundreds of short, green gems with perfectly symmetrical hair.

Peridot.

"We have broken through the troposphere," one of them said in the monotone voice so typical of a Peridot. Like someone was pinching their nose. "Arrival on Earth imminent."

"What's the status of our package?" Rose asked, but in Yellow Diamond's voice.

"Has not emerged yet, but bio-signs are spiking rapidly. We can begin the extraction in ten minutes."

"I'm picking up gem signals within the structure," another Peridot said. This one's voice had a little more personality, but not much. "Running a facet check now."

Rose's heart leapt into her chest, as the screen slowly displayed Bismuth, Pearl, Ruby Sapphire and, finally, her in quick succession. She could feel Yellow's hand pressing against the throne of her palanquin. Her Pearl looked up at her nervously.

Yellow felt along the surface of the throne, until gliding over a miniscule "+" shaped indentation along its surface. The static mugs of the Crystal Gems disappeared, replaced with a moving image of a familiar face.

"My Diamond," Jasper answered nervously, crossing her hands over her chest in salute.

"It's your lucky day," Rose said, again in Yellow Diamond's voice. "The Crystal Gems are within the structure. We will assimilate them on this ship; once they are on board, you will take them out. This is a chance for you both to redeem yourself, and avenge the loss of…"

Rose felt a deep, loathing sadness that made her stomach feel like tar. Yellow couldn't bring herself to say Pink's name. Jasper took the chance to speak up.

"I won't fail you, my Diamond," Jasper said, unable to contain the excitement in her voice.

Rose awoke, this time finding herself in Saber's arms. It was as if nothing had happened to the servant, who moments before had seemingly been at death's door. Before she could tell the others what was coming, a yellow aura penetrated the room through the entryway. Even Rinea and Berkut, in whatever state of possession they were in, stopped to observe this new phenomenon.

Pearl was the first to be lifted off the ground, her rump pounding the wall above the entryway before being sucked into the sky.

"What's...h-a-a-a-appening?" Bismuth said as she followed. Garnet was freed from Rinea's spell, only to be sucked into the air as well. Knowing what followed, Rose gave Saber a final wink as she became the final gem to be taken.

The cold air raked her skin, preventing her from concentrating and invading Yellow's mind properly. All she could sense was a mix of confused emotions, a brief flare of anger, an abrupt descent into utter sadness. Rose didn't think Yellow was capable of such emotions.

Finally, the air grew still, and the familiar odor of metal and gem ship fuel crept into her nostrils. Rose opened her eyes to the dark hangar bay of Yellow's ship, located within the "index finger" as the humans called it. Typically, the hangar would be filled with Ruby ships, their pilots and crew talking jovially or play wrestling while waiting for their assignments, but it was empty. The only illumination came from the orange forcefield on the far end of the room, isolating them from the hall leading into the control center.

"Is this...Yellow's ship?" Pearl asked from behind Rose.

A loud humming noise made their gemstones rattle, and suddenly the hangar was fully illuminated. The forcefield on the other end of the room disappeared, just long enough for Jasper and around twenty quartz gems to squeeze through it. Jasper's eyes locked on Rose.

"Rose," Jasper growled, her force of quartz soldiers nervously shuffling behind her as she approached the Crystal Gems. Rose recognized some of the Amethysts from her own Earth Kindergarten, even though she had seldom visited it. It was a depressing place located in the Riga valley south of Zofia Harbor, always cloaked in gray under an overcast sky. They were glancing nervously at each other, holding their axes or whips loosely in their hands. More than likely, these gems had never seen combat, but they would never admit their reservations in front of Jasper.

"You thought you could escape? You're stupider than I thought, and shattering a Diamond is about as stupid as a gem can get."

"You're the idiot, if you think we're gonna go down without a fight to the likes of you!"

This exclamation had come from Bismuth. Her face was swollen with a rage Rose had never seen out of her typically placid partner.

"So, the forging gem thinks she's a warrior," Jasper said with a sneer. A couple of her soldiers attempted to laugh as well, but all that came out were a couple of nervous giggles. All of them had their eyes fixed on Rose, a mixture of fear and awe in their eyes. In their presence was the gem who, in their eyes, had shattered Pink Diamond, a feat that would make even the sturdiest of quartz soldiers run in terror. Indeed, many of them appeared to be debating internally whether to run to the safety of the forcefield, knowing this would incur the wrath of Jasper.

"I've crafted swords with more personality than you."

"Puh," Jasper spat. "Are you hinting that I'm a shattering machine? Guilty as charged! I'd shatter a thousand worthless rocks if it meant protecting my Diamond. Once upon a time, so would all of you."

"Jasper," Rose said, speaking up for the first time. "You don't understand. There's more to Pink's shattering than you realize."

"Shut it, traitor! Aquamarine was there, she saw it happen!"

Rose couldn't recall seeing Blue's favorite little tattletale the day of the shattering. Had she not overheard Gilgamesh pontificating that day, about how he would murder an innocent human boy, perhaps Pink would still be alive. But Pink would never accept the unnecessary death of a human, and she followed the man into that tunnel, hoping her size alone would somehow intimidate the man, and make him give up his evil intentions.

But this human was not afraid. The power of his gaze rivaled that of White Diamond's, and though she had a love for humanity, she had never envisioned humans with any power resembling that of a gem, let alone a Diamond.

She only met his eyes for a brief moment, before an orb of yellow light, brighter even than the sun itself, formed in his hand. A strange, cylindrical talisman slowly descended from it like molasses. There was a flash of red light, then another, followed by an immense pain, which immediately forced her into her gem. She could remember barely keeping the composition of her gem intact. Only White Diamond had ever produced a power of this magnitude.

In the end, the attack finally ended, and Pink had barely kept it together. However, she could not generate the energy to reform, even as the man made good on his promise. Even as the body of the innocent young man she had never met, but swore to protect, collapsed beside her. When Pink finally recovered enough energy to manifest, she discovered something inconvenient. Though she had barely survived the attack, something had happened to her gem that was preventing her from generating the willpower needed to reform as a Diamond. Right then and there, she knew that she could never be Pink Diamond again.

She would not regenerate as Pink Diamond, but as Rose Quartz. The very gem who had supposedly shattered Pink..._was _Pink. But how could she explain all of this to Jasper? She had only met Jasper a handful of times as Pink Diamond. In those days, the Rebellion was merely Pink acting out a fantasy of sticking it to her oppressive Diamond family. There were no Crystal Gems; it was just Rose and Pearl, disrupting material shipments and throwing rocks at quartz soldiers from the bushes.

But even back then, Pink could see how entranced Jasper was by her. She would never turn on her Homeworld, even if Pink herself had suggested it.

Even if she could explain to Jasper, how could she explain the truth behind the Crystal Gem rebellion to Garnet and Bismuth? Pink's identity as Rose Quartz was known only to one gem: her Pearl. The Pearl that stood by her side even now, after all this time and through all the difficult battles and horrors of war. Would Garnet show that same loyalty if she knew? The Diamonds had explicitly banned non-essential fusion some decacycles before, and the price for breaking this law was shattering. It had been Pink, as Rose, who convinced Garnet not to be afraid of who she was. That she was something greater than both Ruby or Sapphire.

And then there was Bismuth. She was the first gem who actively seeked out the rebels, and asked to join. She had never provided a reason, but for Rose, who trusted every gem who came before her without a weapon in hand, no reason was needed. Would she abandon the cause if she knew, now that her best friend had paid the ultimate price for her loyalty?

It was still not the time to speak. Maybe it never would be.

"You have nothing more to say?" Jasper asked, pulling Rose from her musings and back into the present. "Good. Now for the fun part."

Jasper's headgear appeared. Behind Rose, Garnet summoned her gauntlets, while Bismuth transfigured her hands into mallets. Soon, Rose was the only gem in the hangar without a weapon in hand.

"C'mon Rose, let's put these chumps in their place!"

But Rose continued to stare at the floor, absentmindedly studying the faint, cream-colored burn marks from where Ruby ships had once taken off. She would not hurt Jasper; _Pink _would not hurt her own gem. But _Rose_ would not let her friends get hurt, and even their combined strength would not bring Jasper down. She looked at the gem on her chest, which seemed to shift between the hard edges of a diamond and the softer, more dignified curves of a quartz every time she blinked.

"What are you waiting for," Bismuth snarled. It was not a question, and it was followed up by a hard shove to her back. "Let's crush these rocks then take down Yellow!"

"Ha! Like a public servant, this pathetic display, a defective quartz and a lost Pearl could even lay a finger on Yellow," Jasper said, pointing at Bismuth, Garnet, Rose, and Pearl in turn. "You won't even get past me!"

"We're stronger than you think," Garnet said, pounding her gauntlets together. Jasper flashed Garnet an especially venomous gaze, revulsion sweeping across her face.

"Please. You have to fuse to even be half as strong as a quartz soldier! In fact, consider yourself lucky Rose, 'cause I'm gonna take out your pathetic fusion first. The sight of her alone is making my eyes water."

"No," Bismuth said, forcing Garnet behind her as she stepped between her and Jasper. "This is between you and me now."

Every gem, Rose included, stared at Bismuth incredulously. They all knew how powerful Bismuth was. They also knew that she rarely wanted to show it.

"Bismuth…"

"Save it Rose! I always had a feeling your good side would hold you back some day. Jasper doesn't deserve any mercy."

Bismuth spun around and pointed at the orange quartz commander, who was rather enjoying this moment of dissension.

"You shattered Tiger's Eye! She was a Jasper just like you, from the same Kindergarten, and you crushed her like she was nothing!"

Jasper smirked, as she often did without realizing whenever she recalled a past triumph.

"Traitors all shatter the same way in my mind."

"When I'm done with you, you'll wish I did the same to you," Bismuth said in a dark tone Rose had never heard before, as she slowly marched towards Jasper.

Jasper held her hand out, a nonverbal cue for the other soldiers not to get involved. Instead, they spread out and circled the two gems, creating a makeshift arena of trembling young quartz soldiers.

"Bismuth!" Pearl called out.

"Please rethink this," Rose said, a single tear rolling down her cheek. Unlike most of her tears, which contained the life-sustaining energy of a Diamond, this one felt hollow.

"Rethink what?" Bismuth said, still facing Jasper. "That the reason Tiger's Eye was shattered is your fault too?"

The words hit Rose like the blunt end of an axe.

"How could you even say that?" Garnet shouted, her voice heavy with Ruby's influence.

"Think about it," Bismuth said, looking in Garnet's direction briefly. "How many times has Rose told us how important humans are? How important this planet is? I may not have taken it that seriously, but Tiger's Eye did!"

But before they could get any more clarification, the battle had begun. Jasper had suddenly lunged forward, throwing a fist at Bismuth's head which she ducked under at the last possible second. Jasper gasped as Bismuth's malleted fist met her abdomen, and jumped back before Bismuth could follow up.

Rose once again looked down, unable to bear witness to the full view of the violence before her, settling instead for the reflection of it in her gemstone, which still had the features of both a quartz and a diamond…


	35. Chapter 35: Enuma Elish

Gilgamesh and Carocol had forgotten each other's presence, staring at the great yellow hand as it came to a rest just above the apex of the transom windows. He thought then of abandoning the mission and flying out to assist them.

Carocol was quickly reminded of Gilgamesh's presence when a flash of crimson light suddenly began to clash with the hand's yellow aura, until the former alone had domain over the chamber.

A tree-like vision, colored the same crimson red as Gilgamesh's eyes, extending all the way to the ceiling from his open palm, positioned over his head like a pair of antlers. Something towards the top of this illusory structure caught his eye; a single caterpillar of white light, squirming its way through the wiry branches with increasing acceleration. When it reached the bottom, the tree immediately shriveled up, and became an orb of golden light that forced Carocol to squint.

The orb slowly gravitated up above Gilgamesh's hand until it reached the height of his chin, when a cylindrical sword emerged from it. As this unearthly weapon unfurled itself from its casing of gold, Carocol slowly realized that this bizarre creation was another of Gilgamesh's weapons, although he had never seen a sword with a dull tip as this. Instead, lines of the same crimson as before were scrawled upon the blade, as if a beast had drawn blood. Carocol only caught a brief glimpse of the pattern before it began to spin at a velocity impossible for any human-made machine to replicate.

"Consider yourself fortunate, mongrel, for you are bearing witness to the power of my greatest treasure. Should its power not vaporize you, perhaps you will recount the story of how you survived simply being in its presence."

The blade continued to spin faster, so that the red pattern appeared to be leaping off of the surface. Carocol positioned his weapons defensively, though he doubted they would do much good. Though he was physically still, he could feel his soul gravitating towards the thing like a moth to a flame. He took one more glimpse in the direction of the part of the hand where he had seen Rose and the others disappear, helplessness setting in.

"Enuma Elish."

There was an earsplitting roar, like the anger of a hundred storms, followed by the unmistakable surging of electricity. Carocol looked up to see three bolts of energy emerge from the blade, traveling in almost magnetic fashion towards the hand. The instant before making contact, the beams met into one and concentrated on the open palm.

Just as the hand reacted to the impact of the superweapon, another beam emerged from its brushed his arm only slightly, but even this was enough to catapult Carocol backwards. He felt his spine recoil as he impacted the wall behind him with impossible velocity, and only remained conscious long enough to see the hand explode in a shower of prismatic light, raining unknown alien material upon the planet's surface.

The obliteration of the hand ship, resulting from Gilgamesh's attack, was perhaps the only force that could tear Bismuth and Jasper apart. Nevertheless, Jasper managed to get one last kick off, before clinging to one of the floor panels as the hangar bay became a tornado of gem metal and the compositional residue of the quartz soldiers, most of whom had been instantly destabilized when the blast hit. Those who weren't quickly hid inside their gems, to avoid being pierced by the swarming shrapnel.

Rose immediately placed herself inside a bubble, but as she turned to bubble Pearl and Garnet, she was stunned to see that they had already been destabilized by the blast. She closed her eyes in anguish, but quickly discovered that even in her mind she could not hide, for now Yellow Diamond's panic was compounding her own.

All that remained of her portion of the ship was her palanquin, upon which she was still sitting, and a single computer. The Peridot that had identified the Crystal Gems earlier was crawling towards it with one hand, using the other to clutch her abdomen. She appeared to be the only one left.

"5XG, what in the stars was that?!" Yellow said, attempting to maintain her cold demeanor while still allowing a hint of awe into her voice.

"I...don't know!" the Peridot known as 5XG answered, screaming at the top of her lungs. She had abandoned all of the composure expected of a Peridot, and was studying her screen with wide eyes. "Power levels over 9,000, there isn't a weapon on Homeworld with that kind of magnitude!"

"Was that the creature? Was that Duma?"

"Negative, it came from within the tower," 5XG said.

"Then I shall return to the Moonbase."

The palanquin grew dark as a jelly-like yellow capsule began to surround it.

"No, wait!" 5XG called just as the capsule closed.

Rose snapped back into consciousness. She was lying on something cool and coarse, and the way her spine cramped as soon as she moved, she knew she had landed very hard upon it. A powerful gust of wind slapped the side of her face, and she rolled over to see that she was still very high in the air. She quickly realized that she was, in fact, on top of the Tower of Duma.

Looking wildly around for any signs of her friends, or even her enemies, Rose darted to each end of the circular roof, which was a quarter of the size of the base floor, but still substantial enough to hold at least ten people.

Above her came a sound like a primordial war cry. Rose dove out of the way just in time as Jaspar, atop the slab of hangar floor that had saved her before, crashed into the Tower roof.

"Nothing escapes Jasper, not even the great Rose Quartz," she said, grabbing the floor panel and holding it in front of her like a shield. There was a savageness in Jasper's expression now, a desperation for violence that no amount of talking down or reason could tame.

Soon, however, another war cry emanated from above. Only, Jasper wasn't resourceful enough to move, and Bismuth, who had been surfing through the air on a panel of her own, landed right on top of her, flattening the commander instantly.

"Ha, serves you r-"

Bismuth's gloat was interrupted as Jasper lifted Bismuth and the panel separating them above her and launched them in Rose's direction. Bismuth deftly grabbed Rose to keep herself steady, before pushing the pink gem away.

"I'm cleaning up the mess you made, Rose," Bismuth said, sending another guilty pang down Rose's spine. Bismuth grabbed her panel off the ground and wielded it the same way Jasper had done. "Stay back."

Jasper, hair wild and her headgear crushed from Bismuth's impact, positioned her panel horizontally and launched it like a boomerang in Bismuth's direction. Bismuth slid under it, and charged with her panel held out like a battering ram. Jasper emitted a frustrated growl, and held out her arms to brace for impact. Though Bismuth managed to freight Jasper back a few feet, the quartz commander grinned menacingly, and dug into the roof with her heels. Using her leverage, she once again lifted both Bismuth and the panel into the air.

Rose flinched as Jasper broke the panel in half with her head, shattering what remained of her headgear. Bismuth was ready, however, and gripping Jasper's hands in her own, moved into a supine position, levered her leg under Jasper's abdomen, and lifted her into the air. Jasper came down upon the hard roof with a blood-curdling crunch, forcing all of the air out of her lungs.

Bismuth, with the instinct of a quartz, took the opening to pounce on Jasper's chest, pinning her down and transforming her dominant hand into a sickle.

"Checkmate," Bismuth said, smiling savagely upon the fallen quartz commander. Jasper attempted to squirm out of her predicament, to loosen her fists up enough for one last gasp. She even attempted to snap at Bismuth's legs, but finally surrendered as her already collapsed chest ran out of air. "This is for Tiger's Eye."

Jasper's eyes widened in fear, which only excited Bismuth more. She raised her sickle-arm into the air, focusing on the triangular orange gem positioned just below the shattered headgear…

Jasper closed her eyes, waiting for the impact. Waiting for the definitive sound of her gem shattering, a once familiar and welcome sensation that signified a mission completed, now filling her with dread on the precipice of being on the receiving end.

Instead, there was a blunt _clang, _and the weight upon her was lifted. When Jasper opened her eyes, Bismuth was no longer there. Jasper caught one last glimpse of her, with a look of hurt deeper than any heartbreak Jasper had ever inflicted, before she fell over the side of the tower. Jasper looked wildly around for her savior, finally looking down by her left hip, where a pink shield was slowly spinning to a stop.


	36. Chapter 36: The Not-So-Splendid Source

"Alm, wait."

The two Heritors had heard the destruction of Yellow's ship all the way down in the bowels of the Tower. The tragedy they had already witnessed on their respective journeys made them fearful of what they would come across, but for Alm, Celica's presence was mollifying the rising anxiety in his chest.

"Okay," Alm said, though he was eager to rejoin the battle upstairs, but not if it meant antagonizing Celica.

"I've been thinking...if Saber is connected to me, and Gilgamesh is a servant too...how is he still among us?"

"Berkut was his master," Alm began, catching himself before he could say "but now he's dead." Some part of his cousin was still alive, he knew it, even if he was simply a mound of necrosed flesh under Gilgamesh's control. In the corner of this very chamber, however, Alm had found Berkut's real body, next to his wife's.

"Berkut is dead," Celica said, and the matter-of-factness of her response made this horrible truth even more real. "Gilgamesh shouldn't exist."

"Maybe he's tapped into Duma's power. That's what Saber thought, anyway."

At the mention of her servant's name, Celica instinctively looked down at the back of her hand. What had once been the image of a wispy, crucifix-like sword was now just a hilt and three arrows point north, east, and west. The blade of this crude sword had disappeared; only two command seals remained.

"You heard Mila. Duma is stirring, but he isn't awake yet. I don't think he's capable of maintaining such a high level of magical energy."

Alm studied Celica's thoughtful expression, still unsure of what good this conversation would do.

"Okay, so something else is maintaining him. It doesn't seem to matter, does it?"

Celica turned to stare at the idol of Duma, who stared back with red, unblinking eyes.

"Alm, don't you want to know what is maintaining his presence? It could be the only way to defeat him."

"Maybe, but your guess is as good as mine."

Celica blinked impatiently. She missed these one-sided conversations with Alm, who had always tailed her like a dog. She slowly ambled towards the idol, Alm watching her uneasily, the statue's gaze luring her in.

"This statue...you can talk with it?"

"Yeah, but I already did. It moved out of the way, that's how I found you."

But Celica, who practically spent her childhood in the presence of idols and reliefs of Mila, could tell which ones could listen. The relief of _Mila in the Storm_, located at the end of her bedchamber hall, had kept so many of her secrets over the years. To any passerby, it was an average fresco of Mila, fully robed in a green shawl so that her features were obscured (as religious restrictions dictated), holding her hand out towards an approaching storm of hastily drawn purple clouds as if to stop them. Celica, however, always imagined Mila looking out from under her cowl. It watched return to her chamber so many times long after curfew, as she pilfered a midnight snack. She knew the image was listening, and was thankful that it could not talk.

The idol of Duma was talking. Celica could hear garbled, unintelligible whispers coming from the dragon's mouth, which was open so wide that it greatly intruded upon his ears. The creature had listened before; now, it was trying to talk. When Gilgamesh had made a witch out of her, he could never have known that it would make her closer to Duma.

"Alm, come over here."

Alm did as he was told, but took one anxious look over his shoulder at the stairs leading back up to the ground floor.

"It sounds like it's talking. Listen."

Both of them went silent, craning their necks up towards the creature's mouth. Celica could still not make anything out, but as she was about to express her disappointment, Alm shushed her. She was taken slightly aback by this, but her reservations evaporated when Alm turned to her with glowing eyes.

"You're right, I can hear something. Left...wall…"

"Left wall?" Celica said, excited, but nonplussed that she couldn't make the voices out herself.

"Yeah, hang on, there's more. Jill...train...chil...dren? Children."

Immediately, Celica's mind flashed back to the day Gilgamesh captured her, how she had successfully negotiated her surrender in order to protect the town. Instead, the King of Heroes quickly snatched up as many kids as he could. She could feel her temple pulsing in anger, but knew she could do nothing to stop him. Now, the thought of what he could have done to them made her shudder. She imagined a hungry flock of gargoyles, screeching in glee at being provided a meal that would not resist…

In the meantime, Alm moved to the left wall, and was pushing slightly against it when she turned back to him. Celica did the same, moving to the other side of the wall and leaning against it with her back. When nothing happened, she inched her way towards Alm, continuing to lean back as she did, hoping by some miracle that she would fall back into some secret chamber. Alm was doing the same, and they were almost an arm's length away from each other when the smooth surface of the wall suddenly began to feel uneven and coarse. He was reminded of the dragon Mila's scales, as he ran his fingers through the open, dusty spaces running between the material. It was too dark to see it. Celica's guiding flame had been extinguished when she was captured.

"Something's here," Alm whispered. "The wall is different." There was no disagreeing with that, Celica thought, but now the question was how to get around it.

"Step back," Celica said, closing her eyes in concentration. She thought of a spell that would be powerful enough to break through; a fire spell would likely do the trick. Though they had not seen use in a week, she could feel her magical veins rejoicing, and a ball of fire forming in her hands. When she opened her eyes, she discovered that it wasn't a fireball in her palms, but a sphere of white light, bright enough to cast shadows around the darkened nave.

"I've never seen this spell before," Celica said in a trembling voice. Alm's pupils were glowing, and he found himself not wanting to turn away from this light. Not wanting anything to extinguish it.

Celica reminded herself of what was at stake, and steeled herself to release this magic and plunge the room into darkness yet again. She unleashed this strange new spell with a cry. Both Heritors were showered with clay and dust as the spell met its mark. When it felt safe to look again, they found a hole had been blown open in the wall. A visible cloud of cool air escaped from it, making their hair stand on end.

Alm was the first to step inside, something he was thankful he had done, for Celica would certainly have swayed on the spot. Suspended from the low ceiling of the antechamber were the "children" Duma's statue had spoken of. Human children, their limbs pinned to their sides by Gilgamesh's chains like insects in a spider's web.

He heard shuffling behind him, so he backed up against the wall to prohibit her entry.

"What's in there? What don't you want me to see?" Celica said. There was a bite of impatience in her voice.

"The children. Celica, it's not good."

"Let me see," Celica grumbled, and Alm was surprised at the ease by which she pushed him out of the way. "Oh Gods…" she muttered, as she stepped into the macabre mausoleum of hanging bodies.

Unlike Alm, who merely saw the bodies of the children hanging from the ceiling, Celica's magical insight allowed her to see little bands of blue mana slowly escaping their bodies from every orifice. The mana traveled up the chains until hitting the ceiling, where it spread out like a raindrop upon a flat body of water, before disappearing.

She could feel her eyes beginning to burn, and as she looked to Alm for comfort, she saw his eyes were beginning to water as well. But just as she leaned in to embrace him, there was a barely audible groan from above them. She looked up, trying to ascertain which of the children had made the noise. They remained silent, but then Celica detected a slight leg twitch at the back of the chamber

"They're still alive," she said, reaching up to grab the leg of the child she believed had just been groaning. "Their mana is being drained from them, that's why they're so lethargic."

She pulled hard, but Gilgamesh's chains were too strong.

"That's how Gilgamesh is staying alive," she said, saying it before she thought about it. "These children are from the Sage's Hamlet. Their mana stores are phenomenal."

"Back up," Alm said, shaking his head. Celica finally gave up on freeing the boy, panting as she turned back to Alm. "Sage's Hamlet is a real place?"

"Yes, I was surprised too," she said. It was her turn to be surprised. "You know about Sage's Hamlet?"

"Yeah, everyone knows the story," he said, and Celica barely contained the rising indignation in her chest. He joined her bin grabbing the child's ankle and pulling. Celica grabbed the other ankle and pulled as well, but like before, they were forced to give up.

"I don't think we can get them down," Alm breathed. His chest was already tight from the trauma of the past couple of days, and he used his sword as a support to keep himself upright. "How long do they have?"

"Not very," Celica said. "Mana is like blood: you can only lose a certain amount before your life force grinds to a halt."

Alm studied the face of the child. He was a boy of only six or seven, with a thick lips and freckled cheeks. Though his skin was dark, Alm could tell that it was supposed to be darker, and his sparkling blue eyes were slowly becoming gray with every passing second. Hatred bubbled up in Alm's chest, not for the first time, but certainly not as strong as it did now. He was imagining the boy running around and playing in the snow with his playmates, unaware of the evils of the world. Now, he was a victim of that evil before he even knew how to lift his sword, or use a spell; a defenseless victim whose only purpose was to keep one man alive.

Was this how the gods viewed humankind, then? Defenseless meat dolls, that could be used for fuel, food, and their own advancement?

As Alm silently condemned the Gods, he became aware of the sword he was using to steady himself as he caught his breath. The Falchion, the god-slaying sword given to him by a god in her own right.

With a vengeful cry, Alm slashed at the chain. The sword cut through with ease, a development that Alm had not expected, and he was not prepared for the boy to land on his head. The sudden impact nearly knocked him to the ground, but Celica managed to steady him and pull the boy's body off of him.

"Are you okay?" Celica asked desperately. The warmness of her tone made Alm grin stupidly.

"Yeah, I'm good…"

But he realized that Celica was talking to the boy, who she was shaking ever so slightly, cupping her hands around his face. It stung a little, Alm had to admit, but then again he supposed her priorities were in the right place.

"M...mommy," the boy whispered, blinking for the first time in weeks. "Where's mommy…"

"You'll see her soon," Celica said, the color rushing back into her face as she smiled down at him. When she turned to Alm, her expression was serious again.

"Cut the other ones down," she barked, in a voice that reminded him of their youth, when she would yell instructions at him and his friends. Still smiling, he cut down the ten or so children that remained, each one asking for their parents or a pet.

"You'll be okay," Alm said as he comforted the last child. Somehow, they were all alive, albeit pale and too weak to move.

"We need to move," Celica said over Alm's shoulder. Alm stood up to greet her.

"Do you think this will make Gilgamesh weaker?"

She shook her head solemnly.

"No. He probably has enough to last for a few days, at least."

"What about the kids?" Alm said. The floor of the antechamber was strewn with the children, curled up in the fetal position like a rout of slugs. Some of them were more alert than others, and were beginning to sob.

"They'll be safe down here if we cover the wall back up."

"You mean trap them in?!" Alm asked. He could hardly believe Celica had suggested it.

"Do you have a better idea?" Celica asked in a high-pitched voice. "We can't protect them upstairs, and if any of those Terrors find this chamber, they'll be easy pickings."

Alm flinched at this choice of words, and Celica's expression softened.

"You're awfully compassionate for the King of Rigel," she said, in a voice that gave Alm butterflies.

"And you're a bit reckless for the Princess of Zofia," he responded, satisfied to see Celica blush. He leaned in for a kiss, but his foot brushed the back of a small girl with sky-blue hair, and thought better of it in their current circumstances.

"Right, uh, let's board it up," he said, putting his hand on the back of his head awkwardly as he stepped back out into the Idol Chamber. Celica followed, putting a hand over her mouth to cover up her laughter.

It was the funniest thing Jasper had ever experienced. The blunt din of Rose's shield meeting Bismuth's head. The tears forming in Bismuth's eyes just before she tumbled off the edge. Rose, her eyes obscured by her pink mane of hair, staring in the direction of where Bismuth had fallen. What was one gem's tragedy was usually Jasper's comedy, but nothing had ever made her laugh so hard as she was now.

Rose still wasn't sure what had possessed her to do it. In that instant, she had seen one of her oldest friends fighting her mightiest soldier. She knew she had to interfere, and summoned her shield to do just that. She had launched it without caring who it hit, for great internal agony was sure to follow regardless.

Rose looked down at her hands, which suddenly resembled Pink Diamond's slender fingers and smooth, perfect palms. She instinctively grabbed her hair, relieved slightly to feel the familiar curves of Rose's hair, and not the perfect puff of Pink Diamond.

"You're supposed to be a great leader?"

Jasper had stopped laughing, and was now regarding Rose with a condescending glare that reminded her a little too much of Yellow Diamond.

"What leader turns her back on her own soldiers to save the enemy?"

Rose didn't have an answer, but deep within her gem, she could sense that Pink did. She thought of the Amethyst soldiers that had once been hers, how they simply did what they were told without asking questions. Leading meant having empty conversations like that, and it made her bonkers.

Jasper pushed herself to her feet.

"I wonder if I should even destroy you. You've defeated more of your Crystal Gems than almost 95% of our army. Maybe I should let you take care of the rest. Then again, they're so weak on their own they'd probably crumble to dust without you. And that, I gotta see."

Jasper got down on her hands and knees, and Rose could sense what was coming next. Jasper curled up into ball form and spun in place at tremendous velocity, orange energy waves shooting out of her like soil and rocks from a moving tire, until launching herself, fist extended, at Rose.

Rose thought instinctively of grabbing her sword. Of summoning another shield and parrying the blow. But then again, maybe Jasper was right. Maybe, for the safety of Pearl and Garnet, it was best if Rose Quartz ceased to exist. They would be captured, yes, but without Rose they would merely be accomplices. They knew nothing of Pink's murder, aside from the fact that Rose had done it. Or perhaps Pearl, who never strayed too far from her assigned gem, would be forced to be her own gem. Maybe Garnet would not look for Rose's approval every time they fused, and would simply be comfortable being together for the simple but deep pleasure of love.

The thought made Rose smile, and she held out her arms, awaiting the blow that would make it all happen. It never came.

A blue aura had surrounded Jasper mid-attack, so that she resembled an orange hamster wheel being levitated above the ground.

"What the…" Jasper said, interrupted by a high-pitched laugh.

"Sorry to jump in," said a voice with a heavy, Homeworld upper-crust accent. A pebble-sized blue gem slowly descended from the cloud, a black wand extended from her hand, casting the blue energy that had frozen Jasper in place. "The Diamonds 'ave all gathered on the Moonbase, Jasper. I'm afraid Rosey will 'ave to wait."

"Put me down, Aquamarine! Yellow ordered me to crush this traitor, and that's what I'm gonna do!"

Aquamarine giggled, a tinny sound that made Rose's hair stand on end.

"Maybe, but it's not Yellow that wants you back. It's Blue and White, silly. They're preparing their final attack, and unless you want to be left out (a decision that I would fully endorse), you'll join us."

Jasper continued to grovel and curse at the little blue gem, Rose, and the planet Earth as a whole, even as she was lifted out of sight beyond the clouds.

"As for you," Aquamarine said, pointing her wand at Rose, who still couldn't bring herself to move. To even brush the hair out of her eyes. "Wait until you see what the Diamonds have planned. You'll regret what you've done…"

Rose looked into the gem's eyes, as fear flowed through her for the first time. She attempted to look into one of the Diamond's minds, but they were too far away now.

"Toodles!"

And with that unsettlingly cheerful saute, Aquamarine disappeared into the clouds, leaving Rose truly and completely alone.


	37. Chapter 37: Hero's End

Alm and Celica came upon the base floor of the Tower, only to find it empty. In the time since their adventures in the bowels of the Tower, the sun had emerged, painting the walls a fiery orange color. Mold and other natural elements had drained the material of its original, starkly white coloration, giving it the appearance of a melted candle.

The interior of the Tower was finally reflecting its decrepit exterior.

Alm, feeling bolder than before, stepped confidently into the room, and was greeted immediately by his cousin's corpse. Celica gasped, but Alm had expected this. As painful as it would be, he would need to slay his cousin once and for all. He tried to block out the thoughts of Berkut's corpse downstairs, raising Falchion above his head both to defend himself and as a conduit, into which he could steer his negative thoughts.

Instead, the corpse the instant it raised its arm to strike. The flesh had evaporated, leaving only a pile of sinister armor and a cold, emotionless helmet.

"Master!"

It was Saber, striding to greet Celica with a smile that reached both ears. Celica took a step towards her servant, but was immediately restrained by Alm, who was surveying the room for Rinea.

"I have dealth with her, too," Saber said, before embracing both of them. Alm followed her gaze towards the staircase Carocol had ascended earlier, where the corporeal form of Rinea was levitating in midair in a supine position, a gash similar to her husband's marked across her torso.

"This strength," Saber began, admiring the sword in her hands. It was visible now, although a gold binding obscured the detail. "I've never felt anything like it. You must've awoken a great power within my master."

They both turned to Celica, who gave Alm a quick glance before blushing deeply.

"It's complicated," she said, and Alm joined her in blushing.

Carocol was aware that the Golden Dagger suddenly seemed much heavier than before. He had regained consciousness a few minutes before, although every muscle in his body protested whenever he attempted to move. Even the process of opening his eyes required a heroic effort.

The left hand side of the room had been blasted apart, so that the Wyrmstym wind blew into the room unimpeded like the cool breath of a titan. He could hear it whistling faintly as it swished and circled around the semi-circular dome that remained. Chunks of the wall were strewn about like Pegastym leaves.

Though his arms and abdomen continued to protest, Carocol rolled over until he was on his stomach, and began to push himself to his feet.

"You should consider yourself lucky, mongrel."

It was the last voice he wanted to hear on account of the pain he was in. Gilgamesh had waited patiently for Carocol to regain consciousness, for there was no fun in slaying an unconscious adversary.

"To be in the presence of my greatest treasure is an honor in its own right. The spineless rulers of the pathetic race your friends belong to have just learned what happens to those who trifle with my oyster."

Carocol leaned against the back wall, or what remained of it, for support and slowly turned to face Gilgamesh. It was only when the King of Heroes paled, as he flashed a glance at the object in Carocol's hand, that Carocol felt obligated to look.

The Golden Dagger had been replaced by a sword greater and more unblemished than any weapon Carocol had ever lain eyes on. A bronze hilt met an almost prismatic blade at least four feet long, leaving a small opening big enough for Carocol's fist to fit through.

"So, the boy succeeded in bringing her back," Gilgamesh whispered, in a voice akin to a hissing snake. "That weapon is a copy, the Parallel Falchion." Gilgamesh spat the word "copy," as if it were the most loathsome thing in existence. "No copy could possibly threaten me."

Carocol himself wasn't pleased with having to wield it either. It was far more cumbersome than the dagger had been, so much so that he was forced to choose between his own sword and it. There was an ungodly hum, and a portal of gold light had appeared beside Gilgamesh's head. Carocol felt rushed to choose which weapon he would wield, unaware that it would choose for him.

The weapon Gilgamesh had summoned was launched with tremendous velocity, but before Carocol could even think of parrying the blow, the Parallel Falchion wiggled and moved Carocol's arm on its own accord. Gilgamesh's treasure flew out the open side of the Tower.

A very mortal flicker of fear crossed Gilgamesh's face as he watched his precious treasure soar out of sight. He recovered with a sneer.

"Even now, you dare to resist destiny? My patience has worn thin, mongrel."

More weapons, too many for Carocol to count, jutted out from the empty space behind Gilgamesh.

"You may have the willpower of ten thousand men, but when I am done with you, there will be no muscle, no bone, no flesh to move!"

Carocol could feel the sword beginning to stir of its own accord. In his mind's eye, he could hear the sword talking, telling him how to counter and evade each weapon with strength and agility he simply did not possess in his current state. The first treasure was fired, quickly followed by the second, third, and fourth…

The song of metal meeting metal reached Carocol's ears, but his new sword had not moved. A familiar figure in blue armor had intercepted the blow with her own sword, once invisble, now a pillar of golden light.

"Saber," Gilgamesh growled, baring his teeth like an attack dog. There was more color in her face now, a humble strength in her arms and quiet determination in her expression.

"Find Alm and Celica," Saber said, and Carocol knew this was directed towards him, even though she had not turned to face him. "They're looking for the Gems. With our combined strength, we can end this. I'll hold him off until then."

"Saber…" Carocol began to protest, but Gilgamesh cut him off.

"You believe you can simply 'hold me off?' I see your arrogance has not faded, Saber."

"It was your arrogance that cost you your life in our last encounter," Saber said.

"That was a different time, and a different realm. Here, my strength trounces yours."

Saber turned back to Carocol.

"Go, hurry!"

Carocol opened his mouth to protest, but there was something in Saber's expression that told him he would not win this argument. He nodded, but as he made for the stairs, the Parallel Falchion suddenly grew impossibly heavy. It was rooted to the floor like the narrow stump of a maple tree, and try as Carocol might to move it, or to even relinquish it, his grip was stuck in place. He was not going anywhere.

Saber witnessed this display with growing impatience, but Gilgamesh had resumed his onslaught of weaponry, and the two servants were soon engaged. Carocol could feel the sword calling him to battle, but he resisted its temptation.

The battle between servants was incredible to witness. Saber dodged or parried Gilgamesh's treasures with the grace of a swallow, and reached the King of Heroes so quickly he was forced to engage in close combat. He pulled two great swords, one fairly standard looking, the other multifaceted like a piece of coral from Carocol's native island, out of midair and intercepted a thrust from Saber. Just the mere fact that he was forced on the defensive made his veins bulge, and he roared as he drove Saber away.

Saber swung left, then right, Gilgamesh blocking both blows before aiming a kick at Saber's midsection. The kick sent her airborne, where she recovered quickly enough to bring her sword down at full strength. Gilgamesh bent down on one knee and met the attack with both swords, the resulting shockwaves powerful enough to send Carocol flying across the room were not his grip still stuck to Falchion.

"You always were difficult to destroy," Gilgamesh growled, forcing Saber away with a broad sweeping motion of both swords. When Saber didn't retort, more of his treasures appeared behind him, only the rapidity at which they were launched now was far greater than he would use on a mortal. Saber managed to intercept most of them, although one javelin caught her in the sword-wielding shoulder towards the end of the onslaught, forcing her to nurse it with her other arm.

"C'mon, c'mon," the King of Heroes taunted, his eyes thin and snakelike. "You need to keep up if you want to save your friends!"

His swords dissipated in a burst of golden energy, and a portal instantiated above his right hand, and a familiar, oblong shape began to emerge. Saber had recognized it before Carocol, and the color had already drained from her face.

"You wouldn't," she gasped, clutching her sword in both hands again. By now, Ea was already pointed towards her, the flashing red lines casting Gilgamesh in an evil pallor.

"Enuma Eli…!"

Gilgamesh's command was cut off by his own uncharacteristic cry of agony, as Carocol's Parallel Falchion sliced through his wrist as if it were nothing more than a blade of grass. The hand containing Ea slid across the room, and without a living soul to guide it, the gathering energy dissipated. The only red in Gilgamesh's presence now was the crimson stream of blood erupting from his stump of an arm, and a malevolent glare in Carocol's direction.

"Impossible...I lose a limb, to a worthless urchin like you?"

The Parallel Falchion pulled itself up into an erect position, and pointed Carocol towards the King of Heroes. In that moment, Carocol was hunting like he had done in his youth, and any creature that bled would not escape him for very long. Gilgamesh was bleeding like any mortal, and this fact alone filled Carocol with renewed vigor.

"Saber, join the others."

"Carocol...I won't leave you alone with him. He's too dangerous, even with only one hand."

"If they're in trouble, they're gonna need your help. I need to be the one to finish Gilgamesh, by myself."

Saber offered him the same standoffish look as before, but Carocol would not assent. With a curt nod, she ran to the stairs and disappeared into the darkness of the lower levels.

"My treasury is infinite, mongrel. You are a fool for sending Saber away. You cannot compete against the onslaught of weapons you are about to endure…"

"Try me," Carocol said, drawing the blade his father had rewarded him so many years ago, so that he had two weapons against infinity.

The torrent of weaponry resembled the emergence of wasps from a disturbed hive, rapid, endless, and overwhelming. And yet, as the Parallel Falchion moved on its own and parried every attack, so too could Carocol control his own blade. Though his wrists grew sore and his teeth grinded uncomfortably together, he continued to parry until he felt he could approach. The acceleration of the blows grew as he got closer to the King of Heroes, the veins in his forehead bulging further with each step the boy took towards him.

Finally, he kicked off the ground and rushed forth, the Parallel Falchion continuing to intercept weaponry while extending his own blade. He looked up in time to see the snake-like eyes once filled with vanity and madness now wide and frightened, as the man with infinite weaponry found himself outnumbered and outpaced.

There was the sound of steel tearing flesh, and for a moment Carocol wondered if Gilgamesh's blades had hit home. Instead, Gilgamesh made a desperate grasp of air, as blood erupted from his chest. The portals of golden light disappeared, and Gilgamesh slumped over Carocol's shoulder like an inebriated friend, drenching the Yasha in his blood.

The blood traveled the length of Carocol's robes and collected in a pool around the Yasha's feet. It would soon be the only thing left of him in this world, where he was not a native. His legend had come from another time and place; a world where he had been a hero. But in this world, he thought with a grimace, he would merely be the villain who was foiled in the end.

Carocol flinched slightly as Gilgamesh began to laugh, a deep, eerie laugh that escaped from the pit of his stomach.

"You think this is over?" he breathed in Carocol's ear. The Yasha pushed him away, and though he stumbled, Gilgamesh remained upright. The Parallel Falchion was still wedged in his stomach, but pulling it out would certainly drain him of any remaining life fluids in an instant. There was one more thing he needed to do.

"Perhaps it was your destiny to defeat me. But it was never your destiny to save this world. The Gods themselves have ordered its destruction, and I, their greatest asset in this realm, must see it through."

The Hero King turned and shambled towards the altar. The right-most pillar had been destroyed by the blast from Ea, and he had to step over the remains to get to it. Before Carocol could realize what he was doing, Gilgamesh placed his handless arm over the shrine and allowed his blood to drip onto it.

The instant the first drop met the stone, a series of blue lines suddenly illuminated. The shape they made resembled an eye within a hand, but just as the image was completed, the image turned a deep crimson, matching the color of the Hero King's blood. Carocol held out the Parallel Falchion, waiting for something to emerge from the stone and attack, but nothing ever came. The room never shook, and the air was as cold as before. Gilgamesh turned one last time towards Carocol, as his digitless arms began to fragment and dissipate in a shower of yellow sparks.

"Your world will come to an end regardless, mongrel," Gilgamesh said, streams of blood trickling out of the corners of his mouth as he spoke. "Die, with the pleasure of having defeated the greatest of servants."

The rest of Gilgamesh's body was consumed by the swarms of small, golden lights, like fireflies on a Flostym night, until nothing remained of him. Finally, the lights dissipated once and for all, leaving only Carocol's bloodsoaked blade on the floor. Carocol limped over to retrieve it, and it took every ounce of strength not to collapse as the fatigue from the battle finally set in. Perhaps anyone else would've celebrated then, but as he glanced at the blotch of crimson upon the altar to Duma and remembered what Gilgamesh had said, he had the awful sense that the battle had only just begun.


	38. Chapter 38: The Last Yasha

The next sensation Carocol felt was a hand on his shoulder, and in his current frame of mind, he drew the Parallel Falchion and prepared for more conflict. Instead, he faced a shocked Alm.

"It's just me!"

Carocol nodded sheepishly, the closest thing he gave to an apology, and pocketed the sword. The same sword was strapped around Alm's waist; Carocol realized this was the original Falchion.

"Did you beat Gilgamesh?" He wore a relieved smile, but there was something in his eyes resembling jealousy, perhaps that he couldn't have done the deed himself. Carocol could tell the death of Alm's father, even now, was still heavy in his heart.

Saber and a girl who could only be Celica studied the bloody trail leading to the altar, the latter shooting Carocol a quizzical look.

"We're not done," Carocol said, and there was a glint in Celica's eye as he confirmed what she was already thinking. "He mentioned that it was my destiny to defeat him, but that the world was still doomed."

"He's bluffing," Alm said with a twinge of optimism, wanting so badly for the affair to finally be over.

"No," Saber said, and everyone turned to face her. "Gilgamesh doesn't bluff, even at the end of his rope. Everything he says, he intends."

Celica walked alongside the trail of blood, and studied the stone altar where Gilgamesh had spoken his last words. Her face paled as she noticed something deeper within the rock, a familiar draconic insignia.

"He's given his blood to Duma."

"What does that mean?"

Celica offered Alm a solemn glance.

"We're too late. Duma will awaken at any moment."

Alm staggered back, nearly tripping on a chunk of the fallen pillar.

"Can we fight him?"

"Duma? He could slay an entire army in his physical form, what chance do you think we have?"

Carocol looked down at the Parallel Falchion, hanging from his right hand. Alm drewhis own Falchion.

"Where are the gems?" Carocol asked, hoping to change the subject and lighten the mood, if only a little.

"Dunno," Alm said. "Saber says they were on that ship when it blew up. We didn't have time to survey the wreckage."

Carocol moved to the opening in the wall, staring out at the remains of the great yellow hand. There were no signs of movement in the pit, although a closer inspection revealed small purple and orange shards of quartz soldiers scattered amongst the wreckage and remains of the villagers.

Alm and Celica joined him, studying the boneyard of mortals and gems alike just as solemnly. Finally, they grew tired of feeling sorry, and a sense of purpose overcame them. How long would they have to wair for Duma to manifest? It was a question that haunted Carocol more than the others. As far as he was concerned, his piece in the mission was over. He had slain the man who had killed his father, the half-God who had wrought the Earth's destruction.

Carocol dreaded the thought of waiting in the Tower for centuries for the God to emerge, while the seasons passed around him. A new sense of purpose came over him, an odd blend of relief and uncertainty. He wanted to live in the truest sense, now; to experience Valentia in all of its glory. To grow his own food, and sell it at a market. He wanted to live.

But he happened to catch a sideways glance from Alm, and was reminded that he had overcome those selfish feelings. He had tried to abandon Alm and the party so many times, but stayed with him anyway. He had even tried to leave Rose, the woman who saved his life, but could not. And now, even if it took a century or two, he would wait with his friends for Duma to emerge and put an end to the threat.

Perhaps he was living after all.

The wait was not nearly as long as he dreaded. In fact, the group wished it had taken more time.

The first tremor was very slight, and only Carocol, who was trained in tracking the migration of herd animals, could detect it. The second was far more powerful, and Celica would've fallen on her tailbone had Alm not kept her steady.

"Thank you," she whispered when the tremor ceased, but as Alm opened his mouth to return the favor, the third and final tremor knocked everyone in the Tower, and certainly anyone within a 30 mile radius of the Tower, off their feet.

Carocol rolled over and brushed a handful of curly pink locks out of his eyes to see three fissures snaking their way towards the edge of the pit. Celica gasped as an amber sphere slowly emerged from their zenith. Another crevice, precise and narrow compared to the expanding sheets of bedrock, formed in the center of the sphere, and only when it moved and concentrated on Carocol did he realize the crevice was actually a giant eye, opening slowly.

The larger fissures grew larger and more irregular until three, sickly green appendages emerged from them, two scaly wings and a tail ridden with spikes. Flesh sloughed off of the emerging creature's bones like melted wax, and Carocol choked down an eruption of bile in his throat at the sight of this flesh dripping and pooling around the creature's emerging legs. Even the creature's wings, which had now fully emerged from their tomb, possessed a viscuous quality that would render flight for any other avian being impossible.

Duma turned his single eye to Alm, then Celica, and finally back to Carocol before throwing his head back and unleashing a roar loud enough to be heard back on Yasha Island. Carocol could feel the Parallel Falchion vibrating in his hand, wanting, yearning. As Duma flapped his wings for takeoff, more of his putrid flesh fell upon the remains of Yellow Diamond's ship, drowning them in thick puddles of green. This prevented Duma from completing his takeoff, and he roared in protest as he attempted to shake himself free of his own flesh.

"If anyone has a way to beat him, now would be the time to share it," Alm said, focusing on Celica and Saber in particular.

"Against Duma? Not even Mila could bring him down in the ancient texts…"

Saber stepped in between the pair, her sword glowing again.

"There is no strategy. All we can do is concentrate our most powerful attacks against him."

"As keen as I am to plunge Falchion through that thing's heart," Alm said, "I don't feel like drowning in flesh today."

"You won't have to," Saber said, holding up her sword so that all three Heritors could study it. "You can concentrate both Falchion's energies in my ultimate attack. My Noble Phantasm, Excalibur."

Carocol had the faint idea that somewhere, he had heard that name before, and a quick sideways glance at both Alm and Celica suggested they had too.

"Celica, you will need to concentrate whatever command seals you have remaining to strengthen the attack. This is all or nothing...if we fail, there is nary a weapon, warror, or army that can slow him down."

Celica, Alm, and Carocol all nodded in turn. The two men positioned their copies of the exalted Falchion upon the hilt of Saber's sword. In response, her sword began to grow brighter, and a blue worm of light began to travel down from the hilt of their swords and into hers. The blue was quickly absorbed into the golden hue of Saber's sword, followed by the red burst of energy from Celica's remaining command seals as she proclaimed aloud: "by my command seals, unleash your Noble Phantasm and bring us victory in this fight."

An odd sense of peace came over Carocol, as all around the Tower, isolated balls of light rose from the dilapidated homes and gem remains like spirits emerging from their tombs. They landed on the still-trembling God Duma like butterflies upon a flower, and try as he might to shake these pests away, his efforts were moot

"Those are the souls of warriors who have fallen in battle, recognizing in my blade its nature as the sword of the King of Knights. They are drawn to it like moths to flame, and see in it that same spirit that one called them into battle for the first time. With their strength and ours combined, the path to victory is clear."

Duma had regained mobilty, however, and his single eye was piercing Carocol's heart. The God could sense the very divine quality of eternal life within the boy's bloodstream.

"Ex…"

Duma had crashed into the side of the tower, and was already preparing to lean into the open dome. Celica's eyes flickered fearfully, but Carocol and Alm held their ground.

"-calibur!"

A pocket of energy emerged from the tip of the blade, so bright that Carocol feared permanent blindness from being so close to it. The pupil of Duma's single eye expanded as he peered at the light, and the Tower shook with his desperate wingbeats. He managed to separate himself from the Tower, but was not swift enough to evade Excalibur. The concentrated energy transformed into a single bolt and blasted Duma in the chest.

The roar that followed, one of frustration, anguish, or perhaps both, nearly knocked Carocol off his feet once again. Ears ringing, he managed to keep the Parallel Falchion attached to Excalibur. Alm had been similarly shaken by the roar, but unbeknownst to all three warriors at the forefront of the attack, Celica had moved behind him in case he needed reassurance.

The Tower shook again, less violently than before, as the beam forced Duma back. The Fell God nearly lost his balance, but somehow, perhaps from the sheer strength afforded to a God, he managed to right himself. With a growl that rattled the ribs of the four heroes, Duma leered at them and began to slowly stomp towards the Tower once more.

Carocol, who seldom showed emotion even in extraordinary circumstances, opened his mouth in awe. How was it possible that any being could hold off such an attack!? Its power was greater than that of Gilgamesh's Noble Phantasm, and yet the monster continued to shamble towards them, using his left wing as a shield like a man navigating a blizzard.

"It's...not...working," Alm said through gritted teeth. Sweat was beginning to form on Saber's forehead as she closed her eyes and concentrated.

Their greatest attack had failed, and now Duma was beginning to resist. Where were the gems when they needed a fusion?

Carocol was inspired to look down at his pink skin, the proof of his eternal existence. He still did not know all of the things he was capable of, but he knew of a power that belonged to Rose. He had seen the barrier she had erected to protect Alm, a pink bubble that the spirits of Rinea and Berkut had not been able to penetrate.

He stared back at Duma's chest cavity. Despite the amount of rotten flesh poring from it, disturbed by Excalibur and the twin Falchion's beam, the muscle protecting Duma's heart was pink and hardy like raw meat. The beam had created several incisions within the flesh surrounding the cavity, however, large enough for a human being to crawl through.

Or fly through.

"Listen," Carocol shouted, as he relayed his internal thoughts to his comrades. Carocol would fly into Duma's chest, and create a barrier around himself. This, he hoped, would expand the monster's chest enough for the beam to meet his heart, their only chance of killing him.

"But without the Parallel Falchion's power, there's no guarantee the beam would even rupture Duma's heart," Celica shouted over another growl from Duma. The awakened God was menacingly close now.

Carocol could see why Alm had labored so much just to find her, and allowed himself to admire her beauty for a moment before continuing.

"This sword was yours before it was mine. It will listen to you."

He could feel the Parallel Falchion attempting to keep him rooted to the spot, but knew that Celica's familiar touch would convince the sword to release him. It was almost as if the sword were wielding him, and would certainly wield her, but she would be strong enough to tame it.

"Any barrier you create would not survive our attack. It would kill you."

"I'm immortal, remember?" Carocol fired back at Alm, who could think of an argument to get him to stop other than "there has to be another way."

But when Carocol and Saber's gazes finally met, there was an understanding that there wasn't another way.

"How quickly can you get there?" Saber asked, drawing an indignant look from Alm.

"Pretty quick, just don't let up," he said. "Even if I'm in the way."

"No, I won't let you," Alm said, his grip on Falchion slipping. Celica placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, both to calm him and ensure he didn't break the connection.

"There is no other way...sorry you might have another loss to bear."

Alm turned away, his face red and blotchy. Celica and Saber, who had only known Carocol from the outset of this single mission, looked equally solemn about the task that lay before them.

"It's a long shot, and I've never made a barrier, but if we don't do something else…"

Another deafening roar came from behind him. Within a couple of minutes, Duma would be upon them again, and there would be no stopping him.

"Celica, take over."

Celica withdrew her hand slowly from Alm's shoulder and moved around Saber so that she was next to Carocol. The instant she put a hand on the sword, the force within it that kept Carocol rooted to the spot lessened considerably. Celica wrapped both hands around the hilt, and Carocol found the strength to let go. Carocol endured a brief state of melancholy at the loss of the blade, but quickly found the resolution to float into the air.

He turned in midair to take one final look at his friends. Celica and Saber were concentrated on their attack; Alm, the one he had traveled with since arrived on the mainland, was now the only one observing him. Carocol thought of how to thank him, Alm doing the same, but Duma took a quicker pace forward than usual and Carocol was motivated to take flight.

It only took him a second to reach Duma, who was still focused on the three figures within the Tower. The light had likely blinded the beast, so that it didn't matter who the three silhouettes within the Tower were. There had always been three, as far as he knew. Carocol buzzed around Duma's chest like a horsefly, looking for an entry point before finding one on the left-hand side of his sternum.

He flew in through the opening, and was immediately overwhelmed by the smell of rotten flesh. The odor forced Carocol to land on one of Duma's ribs, where he expelled a combination of saliva and bile. It would take anyone an eternity to get fully adjusted to the stench, but Carocol did just enough to travel the length of the rib he had landed on until the creature's booming heartbeat was loud and clear.

Carocol stared up at the massive red organ, smaller vessels of blue and white wrapped around it like gift paper, then back at the wall of muscle keeping Excalibur and both Falchions at bay. A wreathlike appendage of rib bones converged between the two, although it was far wider than Carocol had believed it would be. He would need to create a barrier about the diameter of a house to begin to push the bones in opposite directions, therefore opening the cavity.

Taking a deep breath (into his robes, for the awful smell in the air made his eyes water), Carocol floated in between the two pairs of converging bones and closed his eyes. He wasn't sure how to generate a barrier at first, although he imagined it would be as instinctual as the way he was now flying. He raised his arms in a y-shape, and imagined himself creating that pink barrier around him.

The effort required was tremendous, and his lungs protested as putrid air entered and exited in excess amounts. But as he exerted more energy, the smell began to dissipate and the air became less sticky and oppressive, and he opened his eyes to find that he had successfully erected a pink barrier around himself after all. It was still not large enough to put pressure on the ribcage, however, and he closed his eyes again and imagined himself expanding the barrier more and more.

He felt a sharp pain in his side that forced his eyes open, and saw that the left hand side of the barrier had wedged itself into a small crevice of bone. Carocol closed his eyes for the final time, taking one deep breath before pushing out with all his might in his mind against the sides of the barrier. Outside the bubble, he could hear the bones of the monster beginning to groan and snap unnaturally as they were pushed aside. Carocol's lungs were beginning to shrivel, but he continued his effort anyway, reminding himself that he was invincible even if he didn't feel like it right now.

Finally, hints of light began to creep in between his closed eyelids, and he opened them to see the Tower of Duma only an eighth of a mile away. He could see the beam he had helped start, still targeting the creature's chest a few feet above him. As soon as the cavity opened, however, the beam began to descend until, with a magnitude beyond anything Carocol had ever experienced, the beam finally settled on him, and more importantly Duma's heart.

It only took a few seconds for the beam to pierce the barrier he had erected, but it was all the time Carocol needed to observe the pink-haired figure on top of the Tower, the one who had given him the ability to have lived and eventually to have saved the world all those long days ago…

The impact of the blast as it shattered the barrier blasted Carocol straight through the creature's heart like a skewer, threatening to drown him in thick red blood. He thought of creating another barrier, but Duma's tar-like blood mixed with the endless wave of decaying flesh made it impossible for him to move. Duma added to the confusion with a final, desperate wail, partially deafening Carocol as he felt his body hit the ground. He could not move as the fallen God's bodily fluids dragged him into the Earth. Though he could feel his life force beating stronger than it ever had, his physical body was being ruptured, impaled, battered, and destroyed.

This fate was worse than death, he knew, but in his own heart, which unlike Duma's continued to beat, he felt lighter than he ever had. He could feel soil collecting in his lungs, but somehow it didn't hurt. Without air to breathe, his ability to reason was shrinking, his thoughts becoming jumbled, confused…

The familiar sighing of the sea woke Carocol. He was lying on his back on some kind of beach, and for the first time since leaving his homeland, the air was warm. He pushed off the creamy sand and got to his feet, the blood rushing to his head as he did so. He waited for the unpleasant sensation to pass, admiring the sensations he associated with his home.

As he finally stared out at sea, and saw Valentia under the flamingo horizon, he realized this was home. The northernmost beach on Yasha Island, in fact, staring out at the place where Carocol had once been saved by Rose.

"Carocol."

He spun around to see his home, settled upon the hill where it had always been. His father emerged from inside, a fishing rod in hand.

"Join me?"

At first, Carocol relished the opportunity, but stopped himself from taking the first step. His father frowned, and called his name again.

Instead, Carocol turned and walked the length of the beach in the direction of the mainland, surveying it for any hint of what was going on at the Tower of Duma. His father continued to beckon him, but eventually, he like every other auditory sensation was lost within the whispering of the sea.

He could never return here, not while the dead could still speak. He had seen too much of the mainland, and could not hide from it anymore. Instinctively, he looked to the sky, where traces of blue were still visible among the fiery sunset.


	39. Chapter 39: Corruption

Rose didn't even wait for Duma's body to completely seep into the Earth before flying down into the pit. Though she knew Saber, Alm, and Celica had witnessed her descent, they didn't call for her, on account of being just as distraught as she was. She landed softly on the surface, and immediately began to claw at the ground. Her hand burned as mounds of Duma's flesh collected in her fingers, and the occasional gem shard she uncovered prickled at her heart.

She kept at this until her hands were scraped and raw, and her face was blotchy and red from tears. Carocol couldn't die! She had made that impossible! But here he was, in an unmarked grave regardless.

She had given everything to protect all humans, but in the end she could not even save one. Rose stared down at her hands, once again unable to discern if they belonged to a Diamond or a quartz. She wished badly that there was a source of water nearby, so she could dip them in and wash away all the gem shards that had accumulated upon them.

The cold reality hit her like an ice bath, the kind Blue would make her take when she spoke out of turn.

She happened to look up then, and even with her eyes filled with tears she could not mistake the luster of a Sapphire. It was buried beneath a panel of the destroyed handship. Rose managed to lift the panel and toss it aside. Ruby had not left Sapphire's side, even as they had flown through the air, and was now pinged in the dirt next to her.

Pearl was similarly buried, although her gem was beneath the hollow frame of a navigation computer. She received a slight shock from a loose-hanging wire within the computer, but managed to procure the little white gemstone in her second effort. By some miracle, none of their gems had been scratched, cracked or shattered. Rose hugged the stones desperately to her chest, as if their mere presence had saved her.

The Crystal Gems were still short one, although Rose was far less eager to find the straggler. Bismuth's gem wouldn't have survived the fall from the top of the Tower, that she was certain. At this rate, she hoped the stone was merely cracked.

But before she could even think of where to look for her rainbow-haired friend, a quiet rattling sound came from only a few feet away. Rose turned to see another ship panel, larger than the one that had concealed Garnet, shaking slightly. It was too heavy for the wind to manipulate, that was for sure. Rose had only taken a single step towards the panel when it was propelled into the air like a pressurized cork.

Rose jumped back, as Bismuth dug herself out of the ground, dirt gathered in her cheeks and the folds of her eyes like grimy, brown makeup. She stared straight at Rose, with an expression impossible to discern. Her eyebrows were curled upwards slightly, as if to allow tears to flow, but the corners of her mouth were taught and menacing.

"Bismuth," Rose said, carefully approaching Bismuth. "I had no choice, I…"

As soon as Rose was within range, Bismuth aimed a fist at Rose's heart. The blow was perfectly precise, but Bismuth reduced the power behind it right before impact, perhaps instinctually. The blow was still enough to reduce Rose to all fours.

"I don't understand you," Bismuth growled. She watched savagely as Rose clutched her chest and pushed herself to her feet. "Maybe I never did. You're a quartz, and I'm in the bottom crust. I thought I was starting to understand what you were really looking for, but I guess I was wrong."

Rose howled as a kick from Bismuth caught her in the side of the ribs, but as she buckled the knee of Bismuth's second leg caught her flush in the face. There was a blinding flash, and when her vision returned she was lying on her back, staring up at the sky. Her face was wet with tears or blood; she couldn't tell which.

"Why did you save Jasper? Why did you attack me?"

How could she tell Bismuth the truth without admitting she was Pink Diamond? It had been physically draining to keep her true self concealed within her gem, but the emotional pain she had yet to tame. Now, it was beginning to crescendo. She could feel Pink's hands pushing from within like an embryo in a human womb.

"I never told you about Tiger's Eye and me," Bismuth said, her voice traveling in a circle around Rose. Rose glanced up to see Bismuth circling her like a cat, pontificating on what would cause her victim the most pain, ironically a methodology Jasper would appreciate.

"I know you were close," Rose whispered, expelling all the air in her lungs and making a cartoonish face like a puffer fish as Bismuth chose her ribs.

"Close? That's all? We were in love!"

The final word made Rose cringe, temporarily damming the flow of tears. She could feel droplets of something wet on her arms, then torso, then legs as Bismuth circled her, and when she spoke her voice was uneven.

"I loved her from the day you brought her in. You don't deserve to know the story about how it happened, but we fused. It was during a battle with some handships, we were pinned down and had no choice. It felt strange at first, but I warmed up to it very quickly. She did too. To know that she felt the same way..."

Bismuth paused, allowing herself to sob for a minute. Rose could still feel Pink pushing from within, trying to escape.

"It was a routine mission. Jasper was leading an attack on a human village, they were gonna take them to Pink's zoo."

_She means my zoo, _Rose thought to herself, the image of the space station Blue and Yellow had erected for swimming into her mind. It had been an impulsive creation on their part, more to stop Pink from complaining about humans. Naturally, their solution was infinitely worse. The humans they "saved" were forcibly separated from their families, their wails filling the empty halls of the station.

Yellow and Blue had a tendency to make things worse, a trait Rose seemed to have inherited.

"We took out the lower quartzes pretty handily, but Jasper was knocking us around. We started to get the upper hand, Jasper was starting to get chalky about being beaten by a lower caste gem. She was gonna take her anger out on a human boy, who had been abandoned during the evacuation, but Tiger's Eye stepped in…"

Bismuth paused again.

"It happened so quick, I didn't believe it myself. The boy had lived, but Tiger's Eye was...broken. You would have been proud of her."

Bismuth grabbed Rose around the chest and lifted her over her head.

"And how did you repay her? By saving her killer."

Bismuth roared and launched Rose into the air. She floated slowly to the ground, a difficult maneuver with Pink still pushing to escape from within.

"Why!? Why did you save Jasper? Tell me!"

Rose thought of an excuse, a way to appease her, but there was none. She could not tell her that, in a moment of weakness, Pink Diamond had stepped in and saved her loyal commander.

"Fine," Bismuth said when Rose didn't answer. "Then I'll have to beat it out of you."

Rose did nothing as Bismuth's mallet-fist punched her in the abdomen, sending her flying into the air. She didn't resist as Bismuth jumped up to meet her, brought her fists together to form one, big hammer, and spiked Rose into the Earth. Rose's gem was shaken, but intact. She was more concerned with Pink, clawing from within at the chance to defend herself. To teach this wily traitor a final lesson.

She rolled out of the way as Bismuth attempted to flatten her, summoning her shield as she did so, raising it over her just as Bismuth raised a fist in the shape of a sickle to skewer her.

"Is defending humanity worth it? Losing two of your closest friends?!"

Bismuth's face sneered at her from the other side of the transclucent pink shield.

"How many more of your friends need to die to make you happy, huh?"

Bismuth struck again with the sickle-fist, making a hammer with her free hand. She used the hammer to pound on the back of the sickle-fist, each blow forcing Rose deeper and deeper into the crust.

"How many humans is the death of a Crystal Gem worth?"

Small fragments of rock tumbled down from the crust above, landing on Rose's shield with blunt _clinks. _

"You're a fraud!"

Bismuth raised the mallet higher than before; the next strike might've even broken Rose's shield. Rose closed her eyes, resigned to her fate. No Crystal Gem was worth the life of a human.

_Not even my own._

Rose opened her eyes in alarm, for the thought had not belonged to her. She thought to warn Bismuth, but it was too late.

There was the blunt, grotesque sound of metal piercing gem flesh. Bismuth paused mid strike, gasping for air but finding none. Looking down, she was the first to see the pink sword sticking through her abdomen. Rose could not see through her shield what had transpired, but knew that Pink had gotten through in the end.

Rose was deafened briefly by a loud bang, and Bismuth's gem soared into the air. The pressure on her shield gone, Rose pulled herself out of the groove in the Earth made by Bismuth's assault. It took her a second to locate Bismuth's gem in her swimming vision, but when she did she was surprised to see a second gem next to it. A purple one with quartz-like properties, sticking out of the Earth like a half-closed eye.

An Amethyst.

It took only around an hour for Pearl, Ruby, and Sapphire to emerge from their slumber. By the time they did, the sun was only a peach on the horizon, giving the sky a fiery glare.

True to form, Pearl had reformed as soon as possible, checking herself for scratches. Ruby and Sapphire took a few minutes longer, and they embraced each other as soon as they did, quickly fusing and becoming Garnet once again.

She amused Pearl and Rose to a lesser extent by rolling around and clutching her stomach, laughing in both Ruby and Sapphire's voices, before adjusting her specs and standing up.

"Where's Bismuth," Pearl asked. Rose, who had done well to conceal her emotions since Pearl reformed, couldn't hold back anymore.

"She's gone," Rose said, sobbing loudly both out of real sadness and a desire to keep them from asking questions. She buried Pearl and Garnet in a rib-crunching hug, hoping this comfort would never evade her again.

Pink, finally placated by having escaped, felt the same.

Pearl grimaced as she noticed the browning flesh of the fallen God littering the ground.

"Was this…?"

Rose nodded, an uncharacteristically solemn acknowledgment that their mission had been completed successfully. Garnet and Pearl didn't take notice, believing Rose was still grieving over Bismuth. This was partially true, although she also thought of Pearl and Garnet, and what Bismuth had said.

Pearl, Garnet, and herself were all that remained of the Crystal Gems. Three against perhaps three million. How ironic, that Pearl and Garnet had been the first to join her, were now the only two still fighting? How much longer could three gems last, even if one was a Diamond? They would keep fighting regardless, but Rose knew she could not protect them. The thought alone threatened to destroy her.

"We're not done."

It was Garnet who said this, looking up at the lavender sky. Something in the reflection of her specs was growing brighter, with waves of blue, yellow, and white light.

Yellow's return to the Moonbase was not as glorious as she would've hoped. Her throne, which possessed far weaker hydraulics than her handship, crashed heavily upon the surface, jarring her bones and only worsening her already bad mood.

As she stepped off the throne, she noticed a squeaking noise coming from beneath it. She looked around for the source until she settled on a small, green triangle jutting out from under the starboard side. It was the Peridot from before, 5XG she believed, moaning as the full weight of the throne pressed down on her.

Yellow, admittedly impressed by this Peridot's hardiness, snapped her finger, and the gravity-inducer within the throne was switched off, allowing it to float slowly off the surface of the planet. The little Peridot grumbled something unsavory, and rubbed her back as she got to her feet.

"Wah!"

She jumped back when she noticed Yellow Diamond looming over her, waving her arms desperately as the low gravity of the moon carried her further than intended. Yellow gently pulled the gem back to the surface, and Peridot saluted immediately.

"Peridot, a new ship will be arriving soon to take me back to Homeworld. I will need a pilot I can trust. Can you be that pilot?"

"Yes, my Diamond," Peridot beamed, shaking with pride. Yellow gave the puny green gem a curt nod, and entered the Moonbase.

She had been dreading this moment, and expected to first come across a disappointed White Diamond. Instead, as she entered the round chamber at the tower base, it was Jasper who greeted her first. She could tell immediately from the way the orange quartz' eyes were closed that she had failed her mission.

"Explain," was all Yellow could mutter, holding back several choice Homeworld swear words.

"I will."

Yellow had not been expecting the soft, lyrical voice of Blue Diamond. Blue stepped into the center of the room until she was standing opposite Yellow. She had certainly seen happier days. Her eyes had a bruised quality to them, and her bottom lip was swollen and encroaching on the top one. Tears were forming in the corners of her eyes, and it was taking a Diamond-size effort to hold them back. Jasper's gaze landed nervously on both Diamonds.

"I had Aquamarine retrieve any surviving troops from the mission. This Jasper was the only one."

Jasper felt a surge of pride at being called the only survivor, but withered again under Yellow's glare.

"Very well," Yellow said. Pink's murderer was still at large because of Jasper, but she knew better than to stomp the gem in Blue's presence, especially in the emotional state she was in. "Why are you here in the first place, Blue? I thought you were colonizing that planet in the Outer Rim."

Earth was the last place Yellow expected Blue to visit.

"White called me here."

Yellow sighed. White was present after all. This accounted for why Blue was holding back her emotion.

"She is in the observatory. She wants to meet with us about our next attack."

Even now, embroiled in her hate of the Earth and the gems who had taken Pink from her, Yellow found herself questioning the logic of another attack on the Earth. The rebels, though small in number, knew how to hide and strike quickly, and no matter how many troops had been sent to Earth to pluck them out they continued to hold the higher ground. There was no honor in this kind of war, and though it made Yellow's gem shrivel to admit, it was working.

"I never want to come back to this planet ever again," Yellow said, clutching her shoulder.

"Neither do I," Blue said. "But we cannot question White. You know that."

Yellow narrowed her eyes, trying to conceal the flicker of fear at the mention of White's name.

"Let's go," Yellow said, preparing to ascend the narrow, white stairs leading to the observatory. As she moved up the first step, she felt her face beginning to sting. She looked down as fresh tears poured from her eyes. An empty void formed in her chest, as if the only light within it had been extinguished.

Yellow didn't protest as Blue's arms wrapped around her. Blue was not crying.

Rose followed Garnet's gaze into the evening sky. The bands of blue, yellow, and white light were not overlapping or competing with another. There was an unspoken language at work here, one that Rose didn't recognize. Pink did.

She was telling her to hide.

"Get behind me!"

Rose summoned her shield and grabbed Garnet and Pearl roughly, pulling them behind the protective pink wall. She wondered if it would be enough, but Pink seemed to think it would be.

Pearl and Garnet closed their eyes, preparing for whatever was about to come. Rose clutched them tighter in her arms, bracing for impact. The light had reached its brightest point, and was barreling towards Earth with alarming speed. This was when Rose spotted the Amethyst gem from earlier, completely exposed.

"Rose!"

Ignoring Pearl, Rose dove out from beneath the barrier and secured the gem. Only for it to tumble from her grip as she threw herself behind the shield again.

The light finally came, and even with closed eyes, Rose's eyes burned from the brightness of it. The shield groaned under the weight of the beam, and all three gems cringed as the hot surface burned their backs.

As suddenly as the light had formed, however, it ceased to be. The shield returned to its standard temperature, and Rose felt safe to open her eyes. She looked around the pit, then in the direction of the Tower, expecting both to be razed by the blast. To her surprise, and immense relief, nothing organic appeared to have been altered by the blast. This was difficult to confirm, however, for the only organic entities around them, from Duma's flesh to the bones of the humans wiped out by whatever had fallen here, were already dead.

"Are you both okay?"

"Mmph," Pearl said into Rose's shoulder. She released them, silently wishing they could hug her forever.

The Amethyst gem was noticeably shorter than before. It was warm to the touch as Rose retrieved it, like a gem that would form soon.

"Rose, where did you find that?"

Garnet slapped the Amethyst out of Rose's hand, and summoned her gauntlets.

"It's gonna form soon," she shouted, and Pearl stood by her side with her spear drawn.

"Wait!"

But the gem was already beginning to glow. All three gems watched apprehensively as the gem levitated off the ground, throwing purple light around the dismal boneyard. The figure began to take shape, assuming various sizes like most reforming quartz soldiers did when determining their muscle mass. Finally, it settled on a size it liked. It was larger than Jasper, its arms the size of handship fingers, its pectoral muscles proudly pronounced.

Rose gaped at the sheer size of the gem, but just as it looked to take form, the shape bent, twitched, and began to shrink. It shrunk all the way down to the size of a Ruby, until finally forming with a quick _pop._

Pearl and Garnet relaxed their stances slightly as the little Amethyst gem sat up. Rose, who as Pink Diamond had commanded quartz soldiers of all shapes and sizes, had never seen an Amethyst gem like this. She was no larger than a human child, and when she looked at Rose there was no trace of pride typical of a quartz in her expression. Her hair was bobbed and precise, and though the occasional lock popped out, the roots weren't long enough for them to be noticeable.

"Is that really an Amethyst?" Pearl asked, fully dropping her guard as the Amethyst put a chubby thumb in its mouth. Rose politely cut between her friends and approached the Amethyst, who looked up at the mighty quartz with eyes the size of coins.

"I'm Rose."

"I'm Rose," the Amethyst repeated in the scratchy voice typical of an Amethyst, though it lacked the authority of one.

"No, I'm Rose."

"No, I'm Rose."

"No…"Rose said, erupting into a fit of giggles. Pearl and Garnet exchanged bewildered glances.

"No…" the Amethyst repeated, before also giggling. Stars appeared in Rose's eyes.

"You are just too precious…"

By now, Garnet and Pearl were confident enough to approach.

"You are an Amethyst," Rose said, putting a finger over the gem's mouth before it could repeat what she heard.

"You are entering a world full of love and life. There are so many wonderful things on this planet waiting for you."

This sounded flat, considering they were in a pit filled with decaying bodies, rotting flesh, and gem shards, but the Amethyst wasn't able to tell.

"Do you want to be a Crystal Gem?"

The purple gem's gaze wandered between Garnet and Pearl, who were still looking down uncertainly at the gem.

"Crystal Gem!"

And with this exclamation, her first independent one, the Crystal Gems embraced the little Amethyst. Rose wasn't sure if it had been Pink that had saved the gem or herself, but somehow, she had the feeling they both had.


	40. Epilogue

When the Crystal Gems, with the newly minted Amethyst, arrived outside the base of Duma Tower, Alm, Celica, and Saber were gathered there, staring vaguely into the sunset. Alm perked up at the sight of pink hair approaching, but upon realizing it was only Rose, sank back into a melancholic silence. It stung Rose to see this, but she knew it wasn't personal.

Saber looked the worse off. Grief was forcing her to hold onto the side of the Tower in support. It was hardly the celebratory mood they had anticipated.

"Are you alright?" Celica asked. The three humans had seen the colorful beam of light, but had no idea what it could do.

"Alive," was Rose's curt response.

"There had to have been another way," Alm muttered, burying his head in Celica's shoulder.

"No," Saber breathed. It seemed that even uttering one word was too much for her. "His sacrifice is tragic, but without it Duma would've shrugged off our attack. It was our only chance...at saving humanity."

Everyone looked at her in alarm as she groaned and clutched her stomach.

"His departure is not the only one you will have to endure."

Celica was the only one whose eyes did not fill with tears. She had felt her seals receding from her hand as they descended the Tower, their magic used up.

"Alm, Celica, a word if I may."

The Heritors moved closer so she did not have to talk as loudly.

"In the time and place where I come from, I ruled over a kingdom mightier than any nation on Earth. I ruled with as much compassion as I could muster, and made it my sworn duty to protect everyone. Perhaps you think that made me an honorable ruler, and allowed me to live on as a heroic spirit. You would not be the first to make this mistake.

"It was my obsession with my subjects, however, that motivated them to rebel against me. By providing their security, I sacrificed their happiness, and the strength of the kingdom. It even cost me the love of my son, who I had neglected in my reckless obsession with my rule.

"Now, you two find yourselves in the enviable position as rulers of an entire continent. If there is anything this failed king can tell you, it is this. Remember that it is the ruled who determine the course of history. Think of this brave endeavor you two have endured. You have retaken the rule of your continent from the Gods. Don't put your people in a position to have to do the same to you."

Saber's right arm was enveloped in gold light, followed by her left.

"I sense I will meet you in another time and place, and that maybe you will be someone's accomplice on their journey. A seat in Avalon awaits you."

"You were more than an accomplice," Celica said, grabbing Saber's shoulder. "Where would I have been, had you not saved my life in the cemetery?"

Saber smiled back.

"Where would I be if you hadn't picked up a sword?"

Celica wrapped her arms around her servant, a word she now came to despise. Not once had she ordered Saber to do something she didn't want to do.

The gathered heroes sniffled and sobbed as the last of Saber's limbs were enveloped in light, though the force that took her was kind enough to leave her face for last, so she could continue to smile upon them. Saber noticed that Bismuth was not among the gems, but she didn't have the time or, quite frankly, the organs to speak.

As Saber's neck began to disappear, Amethyst, who had been hiding behind Rose during the proceedings, finally emerged. She reached out to Saber, who still hadn't noticed her, and began to stumble on two legs, before giving up and proceeding on four legs, towards her.

Saber finally looked down at the little purple gem, as did everyone else.

"Crystal Gem?"

Saber, wearing her best maternal smile, glanced over at the Crystal Gems. Rose, secretly Pink Diamond, and Saber, secretly King Arthur of Britain, looked at one another, recognizing something familiar in the other that made them admittedly uncomfortable.

With a final nod at Amethyst, the light swept up her remaining features, and Saber was gone.

"What about Thomas? I think that's a cute name...maybe a little boring though."

"Thomas? Really? You think Alm would pick a common name like that? It would probably be something like Lance, or Bartleby, or...Kliff, what are some other names for boys?"

"Whoa, whoa, who said it's gonna be a boy? Sexist much, Gray?"

"Faye, you know how much I love women…"

"Yeah, looking up their skirts."

"Shut up, Tobin."

Alm took a sip of Ram wine to conceal his laughter. Celica was thankfully on the other end of the Novis Priory lawn for this conversation, one that had started about Celica's pregnancy, turned into an argument about what the baby should be named, and dovetailed, as it always did in Gray's presence, into a discussion about Gray's love of women.

"Alright, enough suspense Alm, what are you gonna call him?"

"_Her," _Faye snapped, and Gray rolled her eyes.

"It. Maybe it's not even a human, maybe it's an angel."

"For Mila's sake. Alm, just tell us before we stuff Gray into a crate and load him on a pirate ship."

Alm looked at his four childhood friends, Gray, Tobin, Faye, and Kliff, building the suspense within them with his broad smile.

"She's not pregnant," he said, laughing at the looks on their faces.

"No fair," Faye said, punching Alm in the shoulder and wrinkling his white, ceremonial robes. "I'm telling her you lied about her being pregnant to make us feel stupid."

Alm's face paled. This wasn't a consequence he had foreseen.

"You wouldn't," he said in would-be mock outrage. He wasn't keen on being on the receiving end of a glare from Celica.

"Actually, it'll be a cinch since she's coming over here now."

Alm spun around just as Celica strode into the discussion, toting Mae and Boey, her friends from the priory, behind her.

"I wanted to introduce all of you to Boey and Mae. They practically raised me when I was first brought to the priory."

Tobin, Gray, Faye and Kliff introduced themselves, and Boey and Mae did so in turn.

"What's this about something you don't want me to hear?"

Alm, somehow still a rookie to the game of love even though he now had a ring around his finger, had forgotten just how wide his wife's ears truly were.

"Well, you know how we've talked about having kids…"

"Ah yes, the conversation we've never had. Carry on."

Alm winced. Faye and Mae were zeroed in, taking mental notes from the exchange.

"Well, I tried to get them to guess what we would call our baby. It's pretty funny actually."

"He told us you were pregnant."

Alm shot Kliff a dirty look. He was the last person he expected to speak up; he was the last person he expected to talk at all.

"Well, I can assure you I'm not. I guess it'll have to wait a little longer now, too."

Everyone burst into laughter, including Alm. Contrary to "the look" he expected to receive from Celica, she offered him the glassy eyed expression he loved the most about her, which he returned with the nervous smile she loved the most about him.

The wedding had been the bright spot in an otherwise grim calendar of events. It seemed like every week that year had been booked with a funeral, a speech, a royal decree, or other royal ceremony. The funerals had naturally been the most draining, mentally and emotionally. The funeral for Emperor Rudolf was the most difficult. The funeral was held, as was customary for emperors of Rigel, on Duma Day at the end of Wyrmstym, which only left him and Celica a month to plan after the events at the Tower of Duma. Organizing the many speakers, the parades, the bands and musical selections in a short window, on top of seeing his father wheeled down the streets of the capital he so loved, had aged Alm about 40 years.

But with every function, the wedding date on the first weekend of Avistym, the beginning of the warm season, grew closer. Celica had passed off the wedding planning duties to Boey and Mae, having witnessed the productive results of their constantly butting heads in the past.

Naturally, Alm's regents objected, stating that his wedding was to be conducted in traditional Rigelian fashion. But since Celica was the rightful heir to the Zofian throne, which had been vacant for decades, Alm decreed that it was a slap in the face to the nation of Zofia to ignore their marital traditions. Not to mention, Rigelian royal weddings typically featured gory coliseum battles instead of the traditional reception, and Alm had seen enough bloodshed to last a lifetime.

The couple agreed to be wed at the Novis Priory, a move inspired by the last thing Saber had told them. If they were going to be true to their subjects, and live among them and not above them, they wanted to be wed like their subjects. Not to mention, both were growing weary of the excessive pomp and circumstance, and wanted to see their friends without guards constantly harassing them about their reasons for visiting or servants trying to shush them out the door.

"I thought Ilyens 4:34 was an excellent choice for your vows, Celica. Boey over here still thinks you should've gone with Tret 5:12."

"Excuse me," Boey said, his face turning tomato red as it always did when he argued with Mae. "King Zeonitis III of Zofia used that passage for his vows. Need I remind you they were married for fifty years?"

"Need I remind you Zeonitis III knocked up every woman south of Zofia Harbor in that time? Pretty sure that's why there was a big civil war a couple years after he died."

Celica would usually interfere at this point, but for once she enjoyed watching her friends in their natural element. Alm, meanwhile, had shot Gray a warning glance, for he was fairly suspicious that his friend's eyes had wandered towards Mae's breasts during the conversation.

The ceremony itself would be one they would remember for the rest of their lives. Sure, it hadn't been perfect. A sudden burst of rain, common in Novis during the warm season, forced everyone inside, but when the sun came out, and the cramped nave turned into a sauna, they had to move back outside again.

Meanwhile, Alm had to focus on who _was_ at the wedding, not the many people who couldn't. He focused on Mycen, smiling proudly in the front row, and his friends seated patiently in the middle row. They took his mind off his father's absence, who hopefully, somewhere, was watching proudly.

Celica was surprised to see Halcyon standing towards the back during the ceremony, although he disappeared before the reception. She had not seen him since the day she was captured in the Sage's Hamlet. Even when she led the children Gilgamesh had captured back to the village, where they were reunited with their sobbing parents, Halcyon was nowhere to be seen.

Both Alm and Celica ignored the small row of four seats that lay empty. Inviting the Crystal Gems had been a long shot anyway.

After Saber disappeared, the Crystal Gems had said their goodbyes, despite Alm's offers to give them positions within the Valentian army. Rose gave them both bonecrushing hugs (even now, Alm's back still burned), and told them they would meet again, but that they needed to be away from humans for a time.

The brilliant flash of light from the heavens that day had been a "corruption beam," according to Rose, one that would warp the remaining gems on the continent into monsters. These corrupted gems, paired with the swarms of Terrors still stalking the continent, meant the work for the newly combined Rigelian and Zofian armies was never done. She agreed to help control the corrupted gem issue, but once again reiterated that they would be staying far away from humans.

"Any sight of our special guests?" Celica whispered, as the group discussion moved on without them. Alm shook his head, and Celica looked disappointed for the first time all day. He still could not believe how beautiful she was in the pale-green wedding garb of the Zofian princess, the flowers of yellow and purple in her hair rustling in the wind, soft as little slices of cake. He wanted badly to kiss her, regardless if it made the others uncomfortable.

"Oh stars, we missed it! Amethyst, this is your fault."

Pearl and Amethyst, the latter having grown considerably since Alm and Celica had last seen her, strolled up the lawn of the priory. Their appearance had captured the attention of only some of the attendees, but when Rose and Garnet slowly emerged from inside the Priory, everyone turned to look.

"What can I say? Gotta get me some of that Novis feaish…" Amethyst said in a loose voice. Nobody knew what "feaish" referred to, until Amethyst produced a slob of a Novis bass from her loose-fitting tank top and gulped it down in one swallow. Pearl's face turned a bright green, and she barely managed to contain the bile rushing into her throat.

"Did you have to go into the water to get it, though?" Garnet asked in a cool voice.

"C'mon Garnet, you know it's way better than that stuff they serve in the markets."

"Alm! Celica!"

Rose bellowed out their names as she charged towards them, and the circle of friends quickly stepped aside as Rose smothered the wedding couple in her arms.

"We're so sorry we're late! We only heard about the wedding today from a farmer we saved."

"A bunch of Centipeetles attacked a village in Rigel today," Garnet said, in lieu of saying "hello." "Don't worry, nobody got hurt. Well, a couple people got hurt. Actually, they died."

"Anyway," Pearl said, laughing nervously to distract the royal couple from the news. "We're here! We're sorry we missed the ceremony."

Alm and Celica smiled brightly as Rose finally released them.

"We're happy to see you."

They introduced the gems to their Zofian friends, who mumbled out nervous greetings in response. Gray was the only one not to say anything, on account of being completely transfixed by Garnet.

"You're about to hit on me," Garnet said to him. "I'm not into humans. Excuse me."

Gray stared after her as she started conversing with Mycen, drool forming in the corners of his mouth.

"You remember Amethyst, right?"

Amethyst wasn't the loosely clothed, baby gem she was half a year ago. She had a wild look that seemed well ahead of its time, with hoof-like white boots, cutoff jeans with stars on the front, and a wily mane of purple hair like that of a tropical bush.

"Good to see you and all, but where's the music? This lack of sound is kinda killing the vibe."

Faye gasped as Amethyst shapeshifted into a set of drums.

"Pound me!"

"Amethyst, control yourself," Pearl chided.

"Chill out, P, I'm just having fun. I'm gonna go find the food table then pump up the jams."

"But you ate every single fish at the market before we came here," Pearl groaned, following Amethyst. "Do you know how much that cost us?"

"I see you have your hands full," Alm said, nodding at the retreating gems.

"Mmm," Rose mumbled, looking after them fondly. A flicker of sadness found its way in, and Alm knew why.

"We'll be right back," Alm said, nodding at Celica to follow him. Rose looked curious at first, but upon noticing the brooch around Faye's neck, started up a conversation about gemstones with her. She was distracted long enough for Alm and Celica to escape, and finally have some alone time.

The door to the back fence creaked lightly as Alm pushed it open, letting Celica exit first. He wrapped an arm around her waist, and guided her towards the coastline behind the priory. The night was still young, but so was the warm season, and the sun was already close to meeting the water.

Alm stared in the direction of where the Yasha Island was, though it was too far away to make out. They had yet to visit the island, though that chance would come in the next couple of weeks. Celica had enlisted their Zofian friends to come with them and assist with the cleanup of the island, which would certainly still be littered with the rubble of Gilgamesh's massacre.

Alm had another concern, however. One he still didn't know how to rectify. Though every inch of the pit outside the Tower of Duma had been cleaned, from the remains of the village to whatever remained of Duma's flesh, they never found Carocol's body. Without a body, it seemed pointless to hold a public funeral, especially if nobody on the mainland knew him.

He had been planning a private ceremony, just for him and Celica to attend, once they found Carocol's home. The trouble, of course, would be figuring out which house it was. All of the houses on the island were the same size, in accordance with their beliefs about equality.

Alm had brought Celica out here with the point of discussing the matter, but something about the wedding had taken away his desire to do business tonight. He was content merely to stare at the thin, pink line forming on the horizon, Celica leaning on his shoulder.

"What's that?"

Celica pointed at something small and brown in the distance, something Alm had to squint to see. It possessed the architecture of a ship, although it seemed to be flying above the water. As it grew larger, they could make out a thick, purple cloud forming behind it, blocking out the sky like ink in water.

"We need to get everyone inside," Celica said, moving away from Alm and removing her crown. "Let's go."

Alm nodded, but couldn't take his eyes off the ship. The purple cloud behind it grew larger and darker towards the center, so that the only colors on the horizon were purple and the thin line of pink sunset, which for some reason continued to show through the vapors.


End file.
